


Star Wars: The End of Ren

by NoBaggage



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, The Last Jedi
Genre: F/M, FutureReylo, Multi, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, reyloweeklychallenge, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoBaggage/pseuds/NoBaggage
Summary: This began with me using wonderful prompts from the #Reyloweeklychallenge from theTwo Halves of Reylo Tumblr Community. It's now evolved into a 'mostly' cohesive story about all the things I wish could happen after TLJ.Update schedule roughly every fortnight (I'm trying).





	1. First blood

It seemed as though she’d been running on adrenaline for days. Time had existed for one thing only, the opportunity to turn Ben Solo, and when that failed, survival. She looked around.

The remaining band of Resistance fighters was meagre to say the least. But thanks to Master Luke, appearing at last, giving them the opportunity to escape, she could see that tiny spark of hope was still alive. Battered, bruised and beaten down, but alive. 

Rey sat, hunched on a bench in the Falcon and was surprised that her heart continued to race. 

Lieutenant Connix, blank-faced, was handing out food rations, but few seemed to have any appetite.

Feet crunched as people moved about on the metal floor, boots still crusted with bright red dirt and salt from Crait. The closed air held a mix of medicinal scents, and the hiss and pop of smoke and fuses as BB-8 and R2-D2 attended to minor repairs on the ship.

Burned into her brain was the look on Ben’s face when she had shut the door of the Falcon, those enormous, expressive brown eyes, so full of pain. It hadn’t been anger. It had been a final, fleeting look, pleading with her, and then…resignation, betrayal. Rey's own expression had held more resolve than she felt.

If Snoke was the one to create their Force bond, how was it that Ben had appeared to her after Snoke was killed?

Did this mean their Force bond would continue?

This time, her adrenaline was peaking, not from battle and escape, but from a cavalcade of thoughts and emotions. She was flooded with relief that their Force bond seemed intact, and wracked with grief for feeling so. She was grateful that no one was paying her much attention. In fact, when people chanced a glance in her direction, it was different, almost as though they were looking with awe.

She’d only lifted a few rocks.

Everyone with injuries was being attended to. The good looking one, Commander Dameron, Poe, as he had introduced himself, had ordered those more able to various responsibilities on board. As captain of the ship, it should have been Rey calling orders, but she let him be. He seemed the most on edge, as though he needed to keep himself busy, purposeful. Other members of the Resistance were staring listlessly at the floor, or out the windows into deep space, avoiding eye contact with each other, dealing with their own grief or the after effects of battle. 

Luke was gone. 

Just after the jump to light speed, Rey and Leia had held hands for the longest time, trying to accept it. They were the only ones who had felt his presence leave the Force, and for now, they kept the knowledge to themselves.

Eventually, Leia had given Rey’s hand a final squeeze, and stood, turning away, wandering through the old ship. Her fingertips ran lightly over panels and instruments, recollections bringing the odd smile to her lips. Chewy, having been relieved from the flight deck by Poe, walked into the galley and placed his furred paw on Leia’s shoulder. She grasped it and looked up at him, eyes glistening with memory and grief. Chewy lifted his head and let out a mournful sound.

“You’re wounded.” It was Finn.

“Who isn’t?” said Rey, coming back to herself. As though his words made her injury sentient, the wound began to flow again, the first blood drawn by the Praetorian Guard.

Finn fussed over it, cleaning and bandaging her arm. He muttered words that she hardly heard. She watched his dark head as he worked, marvelling, that with all this loss, she still had him, her first true friend. They had come so far, and still they survived. Her mind drifted again and the next time she looked up, Finn was sitting beside the girl, Rose? His hand was gently brushing hair back from her face.

Her mind drew her back to the battle with Ben.

With Ben.

He had struck down his _true_ enemy. It had been Snoke.

The enormity of what he had done rocked her. He had turned.

Ben and Rey had fought together with perfect synchronicity and connection. She’d never experienced anything like it.

It had been pure and true. Their power was unstoppable.

She recalled the hope that had surged through her body to see Ben’s choice made. He was with them, he had turned to the light. This, surely this, was her true purpose.

Then her cresting hopes had plummeted when she realised it was something else. A sharp pain shot through her arm in response.

And yet, he had wanted her at his side.

Wanted. Her.

He knew as she had always known, despite her hope, that she had come from nothing. She _was_ nothing.

_But not to him_.

Was he lost to her now, forever?

She refused to believe it, despite all evidence to the contrary.

_Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to._

_You’re not alone_.

On Ahch-To Rey had felt impossibly lost and alone, unable to convince Master Luke…except for those moments when Ben had appeared.

For all his darkness, he had only ever spoken truth. Skewed to what he believed, but truth.

She had seen how much hurt existed within him, the effect of Luke’s betrayal, all prophesied by Snoke.

She wanted to be a Jedi, more than anything. It had been an awakening, a powerful calling to the light, to purpose, ever since her random, _had it truly been random_ , run in with BB-8 on Jakku. Then, the way Skywalker’s lightsaber had called to her on Takodana.

But Ben Solo had awakened something different inside her, something at odds with a future as a monk. It was something primal that tingled and called to her still.

Rey closed her eyes, remembering when Ben’s fingertips had brushed her own. She reached out.

The Force thrummed through her entire being. She remembered her light coursing forward, mingling with his darkness to create a mild grey fog that was beginning to clear and show…Ben Solo. His eyes were a little sad…worried? But those eyes were clear Ben was holding a bundle in one arm, with his other he was reaching to Rey and…he smiled.

Rey’s eyes opened. Fool. She had almost summoned him to her. She was panting, heat in her face, heart pounding. She wiped her brow and found it covered in sweat.

“Rey?” Finn said. He made to move toward her. “You alright?”

Rey smiled and waved him off.

She stood and stretched, rolling her shoulders.

There was no point in dwelling on Ben Solo, Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader, or whomever he was now.

They needed to find a new base for the Resistance, and to build again.


	2. Speeder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Using this week's word prompt for the Reylo Weekly Challenge, 'speeder'.

They were still on Crait. The earth was a bloodied, cratered mess. The flight deck of Ren’s command shuttle was silent save for Hux’s boots. They tapped, a mincing sound, as Hux paced back and forth, his pale hands clenched behind his back. He radiated pompous superiority. “It should require little effort to wipe out the final band of pathetic rebels. Trace their jump to light speed.”

Kylo Ren’s voice, soft yet resonant with threat, filled every crevice of the ship. “No.”

Hux turned and bristled. “What?” His hand automatically went to this throat. “I mean…why not,” he swallowed, his mouth pruning back as though tasting something bitter, “Supreme Leader?”

“They are of no consequence. The Resistance is finished. Without Skywalker they have no hope.”

Hux couldn’t keep the sneer from his face or voice. “What about the girl?”

“She is nothing.”

“Nothing.” Hux’s eyes almost came unglued from their sockets. His fluffy red brows drew together. “She decapitated Lord Snoke and destroyed the entire Praetorian Guard! I hardly think we could consider her...nothing.”

“Leave her to me.”

Hux’s voice was as dry as a sun ravaged junk trader from Jakku. “I thought we already did,” at the dark look that flashed from Ren, he demurred, “but of course, _Supreme Leader_ , you know best.”

“I need repairs and to refuel. Then I will end her.”

Hux’s smile was simpering. He turned away from the dark lord and barked an angry command. “Jump to light speed. To the Finalizer _._ ”

Kylo retreated into the shadows at the back of the ship and waited.

*

_Four weeks later_

Storia 2A90 wasn’t much to brag about.

It was a former mining planet. Stripped of its natural resources for weapons and machines. Its inhabitants forced into service by the First Order. Those who resisted were used as guinea pigs for Hux’s new weaponry. The life forms that remained were primitive, but thankfully there was enough to provide nourishment for the new settlers. 

Rey found herself studying Rose, the young, injured girl who had saved Finn, and in the process turned herself into a hero. Rose had come from a similar planet to Storia 2A90, one with a shared history of dealings with the First Order. Rey saw recognition, pain and bitterness on Rose’s face as she looked around at what was left, once the First Order had no further use of a planet.

Of course, that bitterness evaporated any time Finn was nearby. Rose stared at him with utter devotion and joy. Finn always responded with kindness and a smile. They often walked about, arm in arm, Finn offering physical support for Rose’s injuries that appeared sweet and affectionate. Yet Rey couldn’t help the feeling that Finn appeared the tinniest bit uncomfortable. The only time he seemed to come fully alive was in brief moments when she got some one-on-one time with him, or when he was around that captain, Poe Dameron.

Rey hoped she wasn’t projecting any level of jealousy about Finn and Rose’s relationship. She and Finn were friends, certainly nothing more. They still had that. Perhaps was bothered her was that Finn and Rose were free to enter into a more meaningful relationship, with no prohibitions.

Storia 2A90 was a small planet, on the surface not much more than rocky mountain ranges and sand. It always came back to sand. At least it was something Rey was familiar with. It was what existed beneath the mountains that had drawn them here, vast subterranean caves and underground rivers with fresh water. The walls of the caves were lit with phosphorescence by a purple, moss like species. A safe place to start again. They hoped.

The Falcon had got them here, apparently and hopefully undetected, not that what remained of General Organa’s rebels were much of a risk to anyone in the galaxy, not in their present state.

Luke’s stand against Kylo…Ben… Rey didn’t know how she should think of him now. In her mind he still felt like Ben, but his actions surely meant he had chosen to live as Kylo Ren, embracing the darkness. How to explain his actions with the Praetorian Guard and Lord Snoke? It was only the thousandth time she’d pondered it. It didn’t do her any good. 

At any rate, Luke’s appearance and his battle with Kylo had reignited the spark in the galaxy. Those allies who had not come to support them in the final battle, whether out of new hope or guilt, Rey didn’t know which, possibly both, pledged and sent support to the growing band of rebels.

Volunteers, fighters, technicians and equipment arrived daily, a trickle at first that seemed to build over weeks to something with real promise.

Leia put up a good front. She gave orders, she welcomed new recruits, and she dug in and did the hard tasks, side by side with others as they began the familiar task of rebuilding, again.

Rey was sharing quarters with Leia and she new the truth of it.

General Organa, Leia, a Skywalker, was diminishing. Her vitality faltered day-by-day.

When they were alone, she reassured Rey. “It’s alright. He’s calling to me. Luke, that is. Well, they all are, I suppose. Han, my mother, my father.”

Leia was resting on her cot and Rey knelt beside her, holding her hand, squeezing it, begging her to stay, to guide them, to keep her on the true path. 

Leia’s voice was low and she said, “It’s alright.” She returned Rey’s squeeze to her hand. “He is my twin, you know. I think the Force connects us, even now. I’m being called to whatever comes next.”

Rey said, “But we _need_ you. I need you.”

Leia smiled. “You have everything you need. It’s time to let the past die. This is your story now.”

Rey gasped.

“What is it?”

“That’s what Ky- what Ben said to me.”

Leia closed her eyes, her whole being seemed to sag into the mattress. She sighed, full of regret. “I failed him. We all did.” He eyes opened and bore into Rey. “I hope you won’t.”

*

Members of the Resistance from planet Yuistea had sent General Organa a ship loaded with XP-52 land speeders. They were helpful when manoeuvring the sandy and rocky terrain of Storia 2A90. Rey was quick to volunteer for scouting or hunting trips. One species that survived on the planet were Crolhers, a largish reptilian beast with short legs and long, grey snouts. Rey didn’t particularly care for them, they were crunchy, bland to the taste and their stringy flesh always caught between her teeth, but they were good for protein. Luckily the XP-52 land speeders had mild weaponry, enough to take down the beasts and enough room to load three or four onto the speeder and return to base. It was good shooting practise.

Rey needed the time alone to think.

She disliked how revered she seemed to be among the Resistance. A hero, when she felt nothing like one. She only wanted to do her part. If only she understood what that was. A Jedi.

Lifting rocks.

If only she could stop thinking about Ben.

There had been no Force connection between them, not since she had closed the door of the Falcon on his face. Several times she had heard his voice, calling her name, but she didn’t know if she was imagining it.

Damn him.

By mid afternoon Rey had taken down five Crolhers. They were surprisingly quick on the ground, despite the short legs. It felt good to shoot at something, which wasn't very Jedi of her at all. The carcasses were crammed together in the back of the speeder, covered with a thick sunshield fabric to keep them cool and stop their pungent odour from filling the closed cockpit on the ride back.

Rey sat on the shaded side of the speeder, her back leaning against the orange metal. She drank some cool water from her backpack and let her mind empty.

The air around her thickened and tingled.

He was there.

He too, was sitting on the ground, his wrists resting on bent knees. She drank in every detail: the way his hair fell about his face, the long scar she had gifted to him, his paleness, how much in this moment he looked young, so very young, but still a mountain of a man, shoulders so broad, limbs that stretched forever. In the few seconds before he was aware of her presence, he had been staring into a void, his expression so full of sorrow that her heart had clenched to see it.

He pressed one of his hands to the ground, preparing to leap to his feet. “You’re here.” The words came out of him and he bit them back. They had both heard the aching need in his tone. He relaxed into his original stance, his voice dismissive. “Go away.”

“What’s wrong?”

He huffed, sarcastic and cruel. “Nothing. I’m the Supreme Leader. You had your chance. Go away.”

“I don’t think I can,” said Rey. _I don’t think I want to_ she thought, overwhelmed with relief at seeing him.

Rey said, “I’m here.”

Ben closed his eyes.

Rey’s voice was small. “Why did you kill Snoke if you weren’t going to join us?”

His eyes opened. Rey gasped to see those huge, brown depths, full of pain and longing. “You know why,” he said, low-voiced.

They stared at each other. Rey wanted it to go on and on, his face was intense and needful, and to her eyes beautiful, despite or because of the scar. She stood and moved toward him, sitting crossed legged, close enough to touch. She wondered if he wanted to do it again. She was burning with curiosity to know if the future she had glimpsed before was changed, or gone.

Ben said, “You wouldn’t choose me of your own free will, so I will show you.”

“Show me what?”

“How it could be. The two of us, ruling together.”

“That’s the problem, Ben. Your obsession with ruling.”

“How do you think it is done, by _consultation_ for every decision? You’ve spent too much time with my mother.”

“Leading by example. Listening. Guiding. Valuing the input of others.”

“Weakness.”

“Is it?”

They watched each other. Rey tried to get her eyes to drink their fill of him. She would forever be thirsty.

She said, “What are you doing, anyway? You seem to lack…agency. Shouldn’t you be out oppressing and terrorising the masses? You’re just sitting.”

Ben gave her a long look. She was sure she saw a muscle twitch in his cheek before he schooled his expression to be impassive. He said, “It’s temporary. Don’t concern yourself.”

He was beginning to fade. In a panic she reached for him. Their fingertips brushed before he dissolved, not long enough to see into the future.

  



	3. Fear

Poe had very nearly wet his pants.

A cargo ship had arrived on Storia 2A90 from one of the newly declared allies. It had next level cloaking systems, advanced enough to thwart the First Order’s ability to trace it through light speed, and had delivered to them a new fleet of X-wing fighters. 

It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but it was a promising start. 

The arrival of the fighters continued to build the air of hope among the growing band of rebels.

One of the vessels stood out, a customised dark-hulled beast. It had been delivered already inscribed in silver, ‘Black One’.

Poe patted the hull and kissed it, saying, “Come to papa, baby.” He bent low to the ground and scratched his fingers across the top of his favourite droid. “This one’s for us, right, buddy?” BB-8 spun in mad circles, his skittery beeps and chirps signally his excited agreement. 

Invigorated by the arrival of the new fleet, Poe leapt into action. 

Lieutenant Connix sat behind a databank of screens. Poe rested a hand on her shoulder, winked at her and said, “It’s time to get this resistance across the galaxy. Am I right?” 

He was oblivious to the deep blush that stained her cheeks. “Y-yes, Commander Dameron.”

“If feels good to be called than again, Connix, real good.”

Many of the rebel pilots were fledging, still in training, but there were also newly arrived and more experienced recruits arriving daily from planets across the galaxy and stretching into the outer rim. 

Poe organised them into teams, for flight training, but also for daily scouting and surveillance of the planet and its atmosphere. He coordinated between using the land speeders and the fighters, leaving nothing to chance. If the First Order were to locate the new base before they had a real chance to rebuild, all would be lost.

Rose was on her feet, but still recovering from her injuries, and requiring plenty of daily rest. Finn was often with her, attentive and kind as ever, but Rey could tell he was itching to be of more use.

Rey arranged for Finn to join her on a scouting run to the mountain range south of the base. They took two land speeders. 

Halfway to their destination Rey caught Finn edging just ahead of her speeder. She looked over at him but he was staring, nonchalant, straight ahead. She edged her speeder just in front of his. Without a glance in her direction he nudged into the lead once more. Within minutes they were outright racing, swooping over the dips and rises of the sandy surface. Finn was so loud, Rey could hear his shouts, even from inside her cockpit.

As the more experienced pilot, Rey pulled a manoeuvre that had her reaching the destination first, with ease. She laughed and the sound of it inside her cockpit shocked her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt carefree enough to laugh out loud. It felt good.

They took their lunch break, sitting in a shallow but cool cave, several metres above the ground. The position gave them a wide outlook to the horizon. The day was clear. It was sad to see the lack of life, of daily activity on the mostly uninhabited planet, thanks to the First Order. The rocky mountains surrounding them had formed from ancient volcanoes and gave off a whiff of sulphur, especially when warmed by the sun. Rey was grateful for an upwind that kept the air around them fresh.

After so long apart and weeks of chaotic activity, it was at last a quiet and private moment between the two friends. Rey didn’t know when she would get another chance, so she took the opportunity to try and get Finn to open up. 

As she had feared, Rose’s romantic feelings were not reciprocated.

Rey said, “The longer you leave this, the worse it will be. If you don’t feel the same, you _have_ to tell her.”

“The thought of hurting Rose terrifies me,” said Finn. His shoulders slumped. “I do love her. She’s brave, funny, and she risked her own life to save me. I owe her everything. I just don’t…love her _that_ way.”

“ _We_ saved each other too. I love you as a friend. You don’t owe me more than that.”

“It’s…different with Rose. You don’t see the way she looks at me.”

Rey handed Finn a Crohler sandwich from the cooler they had brought. He picked at it without much interest. 

Rey thought about the way she had seen Rose’s face light up, whenever Finn was around. She said, “No, I have.”

Finn said, “I have no experience with…this. The First Order, they treated us like machines. We weren’t allowed to form attachments. We were beaten and sent to isolation if they even suspected we had…favourites.” 

He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he stared at the ground. A small gathering had appeared near his feet. They were tiny critters with four short legs and long tails. They were no bigger than a large insect but they seemed to be a mixture of reptile and bird. Their scaly skin was covered with short blue and green feathers. Finn tossed them some crumbs from his lunch. One of the critters had a trunk that extended in membranous sections from its head, each new section advancing with a clacking sound. The creature sucked up a few of Finn’s crumbs. It stilled for a moment and then spat out the food in violent disgust, chitting and squeaking. The other critters responded to the warning and scattered into narrow fissures in the cave wall.

Rey stared at her friend, helpless. She thought hard about what she could say that might help.

She had exactly zero experience with relationships.

Back on Jakku, she had used her staff to beat off the odd trader who thought she was bargaining with more than she was prepared to offer. Before BB-8 and Finn had entered her life, she didn’t even have friends, not really.

Thinking about fighting, for some reason her mind went straight to Ben. She suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable, despite the cool surroundings. She wiped away beads of sweat on her upper lip and brow. There was nothing in her complex relationship with Ben that could offer solace to anyone.

Finn spoke suddenly, a blurt. “We hid it, but there was someone, once.” He paused, embarrassed, and chewed on his bottom lip. “It didn’t get far as relationships go, but we cared for each other.” He drew in a breath that seemed to hurt and released it quickly. “He was killed on my first mission.” He looked up into Rey’s face. “When I defected. On Jakku.”

“Oh.”

“Seeing Zuk reach for me as he died, being powerless…it was the final straw. Then Kylo Ren ordered us to kill everyone…I couldn’t.” 

At the mention of Kylo…Ben, Rey’s discomfort grew, like a hard, twisted knot inside her. There was such a disconnect between the monster she’d first met, the monster she knew who had ordered such atrocities, and the conflicted young man she came to know on Ahch-To. That man had saved her life by killing Snoke, he had been the partner she fought with against the Praetorian Guard. Somehow, despite the monstrous things he had done under Snoke’s control, she had seen there was still good inside him, a glimmer of hope for his future. 

Rey thought how impossible it would be to convince someone like Finn of this, someone whose hatred of Kylo Ren was utterly justified. She was riddled with guilt for keeping her Force connection with Ben a secret, but she didn’t know how she could ever explain it to Finn or any other member of the resistance.

Finn had thrown the sandwich back into the cooler and had picked up a stick. He was tracing patterns into the sand at his feet. “Most Storm Troopers are men, but I don’t think it would have mattered.” He blinked up at Rey. “ _That’s_ what I like.”

Rey hesitated. “So you haven’t been attracted to anyone else, since you left?”

“Well.” Finn shrugged inside his brown, leather jacket and fiddled with the cuffs. “I have. Not that it will do me any good. I don’t think he flies that way. Anyway, he’s a bit of a tart.”

*

The sleeping quarters were a barracks, abandoned by the original inhabitants on Storia. The barracks were large enough to house a small city: a series of simple pods and common areas cut into an enormous cave, a rabbit warren of tunnels interconnecting them.

Tossing from side-to-side in her narrow cot, Rey was frustrated. Thoughts of Ben Solo and her Force bond with him were haunting her. Every time she drifted off, it was only to dream again and _again_ about their moments together, or to extend them, play them out with different outcomes, outcomes that made her huff out loud.

The signs of the Force connection opening were easy to recognise. It always started the same: a slight pressure inside her head, a muffled thrum and then a pop.

She opened her eyes and rolled over to face the wall.

He was there.

Ben was sitting on the ground, his back resting against something, one leg bent. His shoulders seemed broad enough for two people, his presence vast enough to rob the room of air.

He was staring at her, but when their eyes made contact, he looked away. As usual, his surroundings were invisible to Rey. He looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him.

Rey’s eyes darted to Leia’s cot and back to Ben. She knew he couldn’t see her, well she hoped not, but Leia was his mother, and she was strong with the Force.

“We’re not alone?” Ben said.

Of course he would sense something, damn him.

Rey shook her head, hating the way his voice sent a shiver across her skin and made her stomach muscles tighten.

It was the first time the Force bond had opened with another person so close by. Except for when Luke had caught them holding hands. That hadn’t ended well. Rey didn’t know why, but she sensed that Ben being able to see his mother right now might not be such a good thing. Even if Leia suspected something was going on between Rey and Ben, Rey wasn’t ready to share the knowledge of the Force bond with the rest of the resistance, not until she understood it better for herself. She didn’t want to think about how they might want to use it to their advantage.

It was selfish of course, but she wanted to keep their connection private, for now, just between the two of them.

Rey’s eyes flicked to the other cot again, but Leia hadn’t moved and appeared to be in a deep sleep.

Ben’s dark hair fell in soft waves on either side of his face. It was a waste for a man to have hair like that. Betraying that thought, Rey’s fingers itched, wondering what his hair would feel like to touch.

He spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “I can sense, a presence, a colour. Someone strong with the Force.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “My mother?”

Rey nodded, silently.

“Is she…is she alright?” He was working his mouth, uncomfortable with the question. His eyes glistened often but Rey thought this time it wasn’t from anger but instead, concern.

He was dressed from head to toe in his customary black and he was sitting on his cape. Despite the overwhelming hulk of him and the presence of so much black, Rey didn’t see the dark lord, the commander calling orders to destroy the resistance against the First Order. 

She saw a vulnerable young man.

Rey considered her reply. Her observation from a few days ago, that Leia was diminishing, wasn’t quite right. By day, and to the rest of the rebels, she was the general they knew: focused, feisty, and occasionally irascible. At night, well it was different. Diminishing wasn’t the right word. It was more like she was preparing for something.

Transitioning? 

Leia lay very still, as though in a trance, and Ben was right, she almost seemed to glow with blue/green light.

“I think so,” Rey whispered.

“I didn’t fire on her, on the command ship, I want you to know that. I…couldn’t.” Rey watched him and fought the compassion that rose within her. He lived with such constant conflict; it hurt to watch him grapple with it.

Ben said, “But I saw the bridge destroyed.” He frowned and looked away, lost in the memory. “I couldn’t see how she could have survived…but then I sensed her again, alive, on Crait.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Despite everything, I was relieved.”

Ben looked up and they stared at each other. Rey was only wearing a thin tank top and no arm or chest bands. Self-conscious, she drew the blanket up from her waist to under her chin.

“You know I can’t hurt you here,” he said. His voice was soft now.

“Do you want to?”

He gazed at her for a long moment. Those enormous, expressive brown eyes drew her in, sometimes sad, sometimes longing for…Rey didn’t dare think what. Ben pressed his lips together tightly, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “No,” he ground out.

“What’s changed?”

“I was angry at your…rejection.”

Rey rolled her eyes. It was hard to stay quiet at that. She had rejected the First Order, the dark side of the Force, Ben’s desire to rule over everything and everyone, not Ben as a person. She asked him to join them, and even now she couldn’t help the fact that she was relieved that they could still be connected like this.

Instead of responding, she kept her voice low and said, “Why aren’t you in bed? Don’t you ever sleep?”

Uncharacteristically, half his mouth lifted. It was completely unexpected and disarming. “Is that an invitation?”

She felt her face flame. “What? No.”

He waved the wrist that was resting on his bent knee, a casual, dismissive gesture, and grinned. 

Ben Solo _teased_ her now?

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

Angered at being teased, Rey’s tone became accusatory. “What are you doing? Are you trying to find us? The rumours in the galaxy say you are, but no one knows where you are looking.”

Those eyes again. “Do you want me to?”

Was it her imagination, or did everything he was saying tonight seem laden with extra dangerousness?

It was probably her discussion today with Finn about relationships.

Stars above, why was she thinking about relationships?

“Why does everyone think I killed Snoke?” she said, instead of answering his question.

“Really?” he said. “After you were gone, Hux came in, and-” Ben’s attention was drawn away, he stood up to address someone or something in his world. Then he was gone, the Force bond broken.

Rey was woken a second time that night, a few hours before dawn. 

Almost panicking, she threw on her boots and an old jumper and ran, breathless, bursting into Poe’s quarters without even thinking about knocking. Luckily he was alone and she shook him awake. 

Rey said, “It’s the General. Come now.”

Poe slept, ready for an emergency, and was already wearing pants and a shirt. He pulled on his boots, then reached for the holster belt for his blaster.

“No time for that,” said Rey, pulling his hand.

Rey and Poe raced down the corridors, BB-8 at their heels.

Poe’s boots slid to a stop on the stone floor as they reached the entrance of the sleeping chamber. Leia was laying still, silent and deathly pale in her bed. The blue/green glow surrounding her was noticeable to anyone.

Rey’s heart was in her throat. Was she too late?

“Shit,” said Poe, emphatically. “No, no, no. No way.” He spun on his heel to order his droid. “BB-8, get the physician. Hustle, buddy.”

BB-8 began spinning, but Leia held up her hand. “Stop,” she said in a surprisingly strong voice, although her arm fell heavily back on the bed. “There’s no need.”

“General,” gasped Poe, relieved at the sound of her voice. “You almost gave me a heart attack. Let me get the doc, there’s clearly something wr-”

Summoning all her energy, Leia cut him off. “Let go of the control stick, flyboy. LISTEN.”

BB-8 made a downward whirring sound that telegraphed, _uh-oh_.

“Come here, both of you.”

Rey and Poe moved to stand on either side of the bed. Leia held out her hands to each of them. Rey was shocked at how chilled Leia’s skin was to the touch. Poe, clearly impatient at the lack of activity to rectify the situation, shuffled from foot to foot.

“It’s time,” Leia said, simply.

Poe began to argue and Leia narrowed her eyes, her irrepressible internal power, silencing him.

Rey and Poe felt it at the same time. They blinked at each other, eyes wide. Leia was sending…something through them, was it the Force? Rey’s entire arm was tingling.

“It’s time for me to guide you in a different way,” Leia’s voice was growing softer. “You are the future.”

Leia’s head shifted so that she was looking directly at Rey. “You have the best instincts of anyone I know. Trust them. I know it is not in your heart to lead, but others will look to you, and be guided by your actions.”

There it was, the pressure, the thrumming and the pop. 

_Not now_ thought Rey.

She felt him at her back.

“You are strong with the Force, Rey,” Leia continued.

“Turn around,” said Ben, unable to see or hear the rest of the room.

Rey did everything to school her expression to be neutral, to focus on Leia. She kept her back to Ben. This was not the time. 

Or was it?

He sounded pissy at first. “What are you holding? Wait.” His tone changed, deepened. “I sense something. Is it my mother?” His voice rose with alarm. “What’s wrong with her?”

Rey ignored him and heard him hiss in frustration, threatening to release his temper from its very short fuse.

Then she heard Ben’s shocked gasp.

“I can _see_ her,” he said.

Through their bond, Rey sensed how rocked Ben was by seeing what was happening. His feelings were utter turmoil. She wondered how long it had been since Ben had last seen his mother. Was it their Force bond allowing him to see Leia now? Was she sharing her world with him?

Leia was looking directly at Rey, but Ben was standing behind her, just over her right shoulder.

Could she see him as well?

Poe was too upset and focused on Leia to notice anything strange about Rey’s expression or behaviour.

Leia was looking at Rey, but Rey could have sworn the words she spoke next were for Ben as much as for her. 

Leia said, “You are our hope and our light.” 

Behind her, Ben made a choked sound.

Rey, overwhelmed by all that was happening, felt her heart sink, because this sounded like goodbye, but Leia was smiling and squeezing Rey’s hand.

“I don’t understand. What’s _happening_?” Ben croaked. Rey heard the raw emotion in his voice. She couldn’t focus on him right now, but it seemed he was caught up in his own thoughts anyway. “Her hair is so grey. Did I do that?”

Leia turned her head on the pillow to make eye contact Poe. The effort seemed to drain her. “I know you are brave. The bravest…and the best pilot I’ve ever known.” Poe tried to smile at that. “I hope I have taught you the wisdom of knowing when to retreat, of knowing when the losses are too great to bear.” Then she added, “You’ll be a great leader, _General_ Dameron.”

Rey looked across at Poe and was shocked to see a tear run down his cheek. “Stay, boss,” he begged.

Leia’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I can’t wait to join them, you see.” She exhaled, long and slow. “Luke told me, don’t worry, no one is ever truly gone.”

Leia’s head turned and her eyes rested a final time on Rey, and she was sure, on Ben as well.

“Mom,” said Ben in a broken voice.

Rey looked down at the bed in time to see Leia vanish from this world. For a few seconds her nightclothes held the shape of her before they settled, empty and flat on the bedding.

She had never felt more fearful or alone.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my dear friend, [Rinabina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinabina/pseuds/rinabina) for her advice and encouragement. 
> 
> If you are reading along, I'd love to know what you think.


	4. Home

Ben woke annoyed, his body twisted in sheets. It had been another fitful and disturbing sleep. He expected it. Ben Solo was used to feeling pissed upon waking.

Raised voices could be heard from just outside their dwelling.

Great. Another argument.

Ben sat up and moved to his window, staying out of sight but straining his ears to listen. He blinked to adjust his eyes to the weak, early morning light. They lived on the outskirts of Chandrila, no close neighbours, surrounded by green hills and mild weather. His father preferred it to Hanna City where, as he said, everybody got up in his business.

His father’s voice was easy to pick up.

“Relax. I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

A muffled female voice. His mother. She would have been speaking low so as not to wake Ben. His father was oblivious to such considerations.

"It's not _me_ , it's Chewie. He has to see a guy about a thing. And by guy, I mean a Radian, and by thing, I mean a shipment of pickled space worm. You know that giant ball of fuzz can't handle the Falcon without me."

Ben’s mother was gesticulating at the old spaceship and then at his dad. It wasn’t a good sign. Ben could tell by the expression on his dad’s face that he was trying to listen without interrupting, and it was a battle for him. When she finally appeared to draw breath, he said, "All above board. Sanctioned by the Republic." He placed a cross over his heart.

There was a long silence. Ben knew exactly the look his mother would be delivering.

“Come on. Have I ever let you down?”

Ben wished he could make out his mother’s words, spoken under her breath.

“Hey, watch the language, Princess.” There was a long silence. “Sorry,” he muttered. “ _Senator.”_ There was trademark sarcasm in that. He was brave to use it. Ben had seen that move soften his mother as many times as he had seen it blow up in his dad’s face.

More murmurs from his mother. Damn it, why wouldn’t she speak up?

Ben padded away from his window and snuck down the corridor. He caught his reflection in a mirror and winced. His growth spurt had kicked in, he was taller than his dad, but clad only in sleep shorts, he looked like a pale, human skeleton with shaggy, jet black hair and a surly expression. Dismissing his less than appealing mirror image, he reached the end of the corridor and edged his nose around the corner to peek. 

The doors beyond their eating quarters were wide open and he spotted his parents standing just outside. Ben pressed his body into a display case, so that he was out of sight but could still observe them.

His mother, whom everyone else knew as Senator Organa, had her back to him, facing his dad. Her hair was down, loose and soft, and she was wearing a blue robe over her sleep clothes. It was rare to see her like that. Ben remembered how, as a young boy, he’d loved to play with her hair. She looked younger, pretty, and a far cry from the respected stateswoman she was known for.

His dad, the _great_ Han Solo, was still trying to turn on the charm. He was dressed in his leather jacket with his blaster belt hanging from his hips. He was clearly about to leave on one of his hair-brained ventures, that’s what his mother called them. 

Ben could see the Falcon in the distance, lights flashing on and off. Chewie must have been in the middle of performing checks.

“I know how important the next senate meeting is. I promise I’ll be back with a day to spare.”

Leia said, “I’ll be gone to the city for a month. That doesn’t leave much time for us, does it flyboy?”

Han’s face softened. He touched her cheek, rubbing his knuckles back and forth. That particular crooked smile was the one he gave only to her. “We’ll make it up to each other.”

“What about Ben? Does he even know you’re leaving this morning? He might like to join you.”

 _No_ , thought Ben. He didn’t know about it.

Han looked away to the distance. “Not this run. I thought some time apart might be good for us. I-I’m struggling with him, Leia. I don’t know how to help him.”

“He needs you.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. When he was little, I knew what to do. Now? Now he shrinks away from my touch and my advice.”

“He wants you to see him as a man.”

“He’s only fifteen, and don’t pretend that you aren’t worried too.”

“No, you’re right, I am. Perhaps some time with Luke. Perhaps he can harness the light inside Ben, help him to find peace.”

“Let’s talk about it when I get back?”

“When I get back, you mean?”

“We’ll work it out. He’s our son.”

Ben saw his dad gather his mother into his arms, kissing her for much longer than was necessary. Ben hated to watch when they got like that, it made him feel weird inside. Weirder than usual.

He slunk back to his room and lay down on top of his bed.

These arguments, they always seemed to be about him. Because he was bad. He knew it. He wanted to be like his dad, but he wasn’t easy around people. He lost his temper too often and it scared people. He was plagued by nightmares, by something dark that he didn’t understand, but it called to him, and he was tempted.

He put his hands behind his head and imagined being the sort of boy that his dad would admire, someone who laughed easily and had lots of friends. The type of son Han Solo would want to join him on his trips across the galaxy.

Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

He knew he was dreaming because he was in a place he didn’t recognise.

It was hot, stifling hot. The sun was high in the sky and everywhere was white. The female child couldn’t have been more than five or six, a scrawny thing with a dirt smudged face. She was just a dumb kid, playing with space junk on some desolate, sandy wasteland. 

She was happy, sitting in a once yellow, rusted air speeder, pretending to be a pilot. She was making engine noises, her voice high-pitched. He felt her delight, when she discovered a quarterstaff in some old wreckage and claimed it for her own, swinging it over her shoulder like a lightsaber.

When he woke he felt strangely rested, lighter, peaceful. 

He ran to see if his mother needed his help.

*

Years later, Ben didn’t know why he kept dreaming about that dumb kid. Those dreams were simple and meaningless. There was nothing of value to him, a Jedi in training.

Yet, the female child came to his nightly dreams on and off until he was in his twenties.

When he had been sent away to train with his uncle, the Jedi Master, she came to him less often. The training was hard. He saw her after days when he had earned his uncle’s infrequent and hard won praise. It was strange, but even if he dreamed of her crying and alone, he was drawn to her, and driven by his own desire to comfort her, even though they never spoke, nor did she show any awareness of his presence.

Somehow the Force told him that she was real.

Those were the easier days. The days where he felt called to the light, where it felt like somewhere he belonged, his true home. On those days he woke with a welcome sense of peace.

On the darker days, an entirely different presence called to him. Those were days when his efforts in training earned nothing but criticism, or days when jealousy grew inside him, slippery and hot, because Luke seemed to favour another apprentice or padawan over him. 

Ben was the most powerful of all the Jedi in training, everyone knew it. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, Luke always seemed to hold him at a distance. The smiling uncle he had known as small child was unrecognisable in the stern and demanding Jedi Master.

At first he was too young to understand why Luke might not want to show preferential treatment to his nephew.

Then he found out the truth. That Darth Vader, Sith Lord, was his grandfather. 

It changed everything. Finally an explanation for his parent’s constant wariness and worry, an understanding of why he always felt an outsider.

Ben’s loneliness grew with his isolation from his parents, and with it a resentment toward his uncle. It was a doorway to temptation and darkness. This was where Lord Snoke had found him, vulnerable and ripe for manipulation.

He remembered that day, the worst day of his life so far, when he awoke in fear, staring into the wild and unhinged expression on his Uncle Luke’s face. Luke Skywalker, hero of the Republic, revered and admired across the galaxy, was about to strike down his only nephew, to murder the last of the Skywalker line.

It was all as Lord Snoke had predicted. 

It didn’t make it hurt less. The depth of the betrayal scored deep inside Ben, knowing that a beloved member of his family wanted him dead.

Lord Snoke had foreseen that they would turn on him, his uncle, his parents, once they sense his true power in the darkness. 

The darkness was where he belonged. The darkness was where Lord Snoke had set a path that led him to his true destiny, one that had begun with his grandfather, and one that he alone could complete.

He remembered Luke’s terrifying face, eerily lit by the blue glow of his lightsaber, determined to strike him down. He recalled how his own fear channelled itself into blind rage, drowning him in dark power. He collapsed the room, leaving his uncle buried beneath the rubble.

He wasn’t Ben Solo anymore, he became something else, a creature who embraced the darkness, revelled in it and all that it allowed him to do. He could raze a building with a flick of his hand, command weaker minds to bow before him, or crush a windpipe with next to no effort. His power was vast, seemingly unstoppable, and it poured out of him, pulsing and thick. He acted without conscious thought. The dark side of the Force knew what needed to be done. Anyone who stood before it was either seduced or destroyed. For the first time there was no turmoil within, only purpose.

Ben didn’t come back to himself until the Jedi temple lay burning, in ruins. A number of padawans and apprentices pledged immediate allegiance and stood behind him. Others, initiates and padawans, defenceless and wearing sleeping robes, huddled in a fearful group before them. 

Ben gave them an ultimatum, and one minute to decide.

He remembered how hard he had blinked, thinking it was a trick of the smoke that stung his eyes and burned the back of his throat.

Standing, just beyond the group of young Jedi, she emerged from the shadows, surrounded by a pool of illumination. It was her, the girl. It had been months since he had dreamed of her. He’d _never_ seen her as a waking vision. Somehow he knew that she was visible only to him.

She was older, taller, with long, thin limbs, on the cusp of womanhood. Her long hair was pulled back from her face in a series of knots. And that face. She was gazing around, uncertainty written in her expression. Ben’s eyes travelled back and forth, from her hair to her eyes, to her full, wide mouth. He felt a stirring, deep within himself. She was surrounded by light and summoning it at the same time. It was powerful, and he was drawn.

He watched her. The girl took in the mayhem, the burning rubble, and her brow furrowed, confused by it all.

Then their eyes connected and she did something shocking.

She saw him.

She looked directly at Ben as though she recognised his face. Recognised, and welcomed it.

She smiled. Ben felt that stirring again, it was uncomfortable, disturbing his resolve. She seemed to be…beckoning him.

He was robbed of breath.

Her presence brought powerful feelings of belonging, of purpose, of…balance and peace and…love?

What was love to a dark lord? There could be no attachments. Attachments were forbidden.

The conflict began bubbling deep within, a battle between the temptation of this girl and the promises of Lord Snoke. She was trying to pull him away from what he _knew_ he had to do. It had been prophesied. 

He fought the conflict. 

He clenched his eyes shut, blocking the vision of the girl.

The conflict brought physical pain, hot burning pain, as though he had been sliced in half by a lightsaber. It sizzled through his body and his mind. He fought it with every ounce of his strength.

With his eyes resolutely closed, Ben called to his master, reached out with his mind, begging for strength and guidance.

And he was answered.

He let the darkness extinguish the light, envelope, cloak him in dark power. He lost himself. 

Ben Solo disappeared in the swirls of smoke and flame.

Kylo Ren, born from the ashes of the Jedi temple, along with his new followers, his knights, slayed all who refused to follow him, without mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the #ReyloWeeklyChallenge and the [Two Halves of Reylo Tumblr community](https://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/) for the inspiration for this chapter in my ongoing post TLJ story. Thanks to [Rinabina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinabina/pseuds/rinabina) for being excited to pre read and for fixing my mistakes.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


	5. Survival

Rey and Poe stood by the small cot, staring at Leia’s empty clothing, looking for answers. They were numb with the shock of her death, and barely spoke. Even BB-8 was silent. 

Poe said, “I mean,” and then couldn’t continue, shrugging helplessly. He held out his hand, tangling his fingers with Rey’s, offering what comfort he could. 

There had been a hiss in her ear when that happened. It had been the only sound alerting Rey to the fact that Ben remained, connected to her through their Force bond.

Rey’s connection to Ben was so strong that she could sense when he moved back into the shadows on Rey’s side of the room. Rey sensed his unbearable sadness, sadness she shared. There was endless regret too, but that was his alone to bear. In an attempt to quell his emotions and grapple for control, she thought he might have begun meditating.

It was just before dawn when Poe had rallied himself enough to leave the sparse stone room. Still, his footsteps were heavy as he walked away to make the official announcement to their small troop of rebels. 

Rey turned to face her cot and saw that Ben was still present. He was sitting, cross-legged on a low stool that flickered in and out of her vision, something from his world. Ben’s image was solid, as though he was really there. His back was to her and the pain he was holding in his body was palpable.

She approached him slowly, with a clear intent to touch him. She desired comfort as much as she yearned to offer it. She sensed his unvoiced need and was compelled.

She took in the wide expanse of his dark clad shoulders, the wave of his inky black hair. As she came up beside him she looked down and saw that his pale cheeks were damp. He wasn’t wearing his customary quilted jacket, only a thin, black undershirt.

Touch was something that only seemed to work within their bond when they both desired it. She wondered, and then, slowly rested her fingertips on his shoulder. The fabric was thin and she felt muscle and bone shift under her fingers. Before she had time to register what was happening, Ben had reached across his body and over his shoulder, and their fingers were intertwined, holding tight.

Rey shifted closer so that her front connected with his back, her thighs, her belly and chest were pressed against his long spine. Her breathing became more noticeable. Relief. It was relief to touch him. She curved around him and pressed her forehead to the top of his hair.

Rey said, “Perhaps she failed you, but she was human, and there was no question that she loved you.”

Ben shuddered and squeezed her hand.

They stayed that way, pressed close, for a long time. Rey even imagined she could feel heat from his body, as though it was their actual flesh touching, not just through their bond. Heat, connection, and comfort.

Then she heard Ben’s sharp intake of breath and his head turned to one side. Was he being disturbed in his world? There was no time to question him before he disappeared and she was left, curved around air.

*

Poe didn’t arrange for someone else to share Rey’s sleeping pod, somehow it seemed disrespectful to General Organa.

That was how, two weeks later, Rey came to be sitting alone on her cot, wiping hot, bitter tears from her cheeks. 

She had never tried it before, and wasn’t sure if it could work, so many of the times they appeared to each other seemed random, but she focused with every ounce of concentration, _summoning_ Kylo Ren through the Force bond.

She felt it, the familiar pressure inside her head, the muffled thrum and pop.

Why was he always sitting on the ground? He stood up quickly when he saw her.

Rey leapt from her cot and advanced, her face like thunder.

Without thought for consequence, Rey raised her fists and swung. The connection with his hard flesh was rewarding, and she continued to swing, railing a cathartic set of strikes on his body. She hoped she was hurting him, but she didn’t care one way or the other, she needed to give physical expression to her anger.

“Rey,” he said, shocked. He didn’t even attempt to stop her, but concern radiated from his expression. “What is it? What’s happ-?”

Rey took a step back, suddenly disgusted. She wiped her hands down her thighs, removing the sense of touch. Her lip curled. “How _could_ you?”

He looked confused, but she wasn’t going to be fooled by this act any longer.

They’d all seen it. The video link had been streamed across the galaxy. Connix had diverted a feed from another planet near the Storia system.

Standing, shoulder to shoulder, General Hux and the new Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren. Ren, slightly taller and clad from head to foot in black, mask in place and cape swirling in the wind, cut a frightening and imposing figure.

It was the usual Hux hubris, screeching maniacal gibberish to his armies as they stood to attention, row after impeccable row, a sea of white, thousands of mindless stormtroopers.

The difference was that this time, the Supreme Leader, stood next to him while they celebrated, cheered and taunted, and belittled the demise of General Organa. 

The First Order had found out about Leia’s death when they captured a rebel sympathiser and tortured him.

Rey hissed, “I don’t know how you fooled me for so long, thinking you were in conflict. Now I see the real evil in you, Ren.”

“ _Ren_?” he said. He had the gall to appear affronted.

“That’s who you truly are,” she spat her words at him, voice dripping with venom. “Ben Solo is dead.” She inhaled a ragged breath, making sure her next words would find their target. “This is the _last_ time I will allow you to appear to me through this bond. I don’t know how but I will _block_ you, and when the time comes, I will des-”

“Rey!” The power of his command thrummed through her entire being. Was he about to attack? Could he even do that through the bond? They hadn’t been able to harm each other back on Ahch-To, but so much had passed between them since then. Now that they could touch through the bond, could he harm her that way?

Rey had a split second to realise that she had no weapon. No weapon other than the power of the Force. But in that split second it was too late for her to summon the light.

This could be the end. She froze, eyes wide with the remains of her anger and a new terror. She had been a fool to believe in him. This monster had betrayed her, betrayed his family, and betrayed the galaxy. Would he destroy her now? She was defenceless. Rey wondered if there would be pain, or would he show mercy?

Ben crushed his body to hers.

He drew in a long, ragged breath, just above her ear. Rey’s nose was buried in his thick, dark hair. He smelled a little unwashed, but underneath that, his male musk lit a powerful hunger inside Rey that she’d never been aware of until this very moment. 

She didn’t try to pull away.

One of Ben’s palms was pressed firmly into the small of her back, the span of his hand almost stretched from hip to hip. His other hand was moving, sliding slowly up her spine to the base of her skull where it paused to cradle her head. 

How could she have predicted what this would do to her?

She had lived so long without touch. There were years without human contact after she was abandoned on Jakku. Her memories of touch were reduced to the odd clip over her ear from Teedo, or a blow as she fought to defend her stash.

One of the joys of being part of the Resistance had been gaining friends and the human contact that brought. She had been shocked when she’d met Finn and he’d held her hand to draw her away from danger. Now they hugged all the time, to comfort, out of happiness, or support, free as the air.

This was not like that.

She had experienced camaraderie with others since then. Poe handed out touches: hugs, shoulder squeezes and the like as though they cost him nothing. Rey had enjoyed being held by Leia most of all. Being held in her arms gave her an overwhelming sense of peace and purpose and comfort.

This was not like that.

She should have pulled away. She shouldn’t trust him.

He was smothering her.

Rey was not a small woman, but Ben Solo was a vast human. He was broad with long bones and strong muscle. She was enveloped.

She couldn’t pull herself away, even if she wanted to.

Rey had experienced belonging before. When she met BB-8 and knew that she had to return him to the Resistance, the first time she had sat behind the controls of the Falcon, and later, when she’d impressed Han Solo with her piloting skills. There had been a terrifying sense of belonging too, when she had held Luke’s lightsaber for the first time. She had resisted it.

She couldn’t resist this.

More than anything else, this touch, this overwhelming experience of having another body touching the entire length of hers, the rasp of his stubble against her cheek, this was stronger than all the moments that had preceded it. This was the most powerful sense of belonging she had ever experienced.

Rey wondered if Ben was feeling the same, and thought she had the answer in the way his body trembled against hers. It was as though he was actually present in the room with her.

The hand that was cradling her head was pulling her back to face him.

Those deep brown eyes held so much power. Mingled with the power, pain and longing battled in their expressive depths. Watching, Rey saw the moment when longing changed, and became intent. Slowly but purposefully, Ben lowered his head, giving her time to voice a protest. 

She had none.

His mouth was on hers. In mild shock, she opened her mouth and gasped when he deepened the kiss.

Rey gave herself over to sensation. She rested her hands on either side of Ben’s long neck, and with nothing more than a primal impulse, returned the kiss. Ben released a deep moan and she felt the vibration of it on her fingertips.

The kissing went on a long time.

“There,” he said, pulling back at last.

Rey, in a bit of a fog, said, “Hmm?”

“I needed to shut you up so that you’d listen to me.”

Rey blinked up at him. She fought the desire to touch his scar, the scar she had created. “Yes?”

Then her body reacted and betrayed her.

Ben’s eyes widened as he observed her full body flush: a pulsing red wash that left tell tale signs on her neck and cheeks.

“Rey?”

It was too embarrassing, but Rey sensed there were few secrets she could keep from Ben Solo.

Who was real? Ben Solo or Kylo Ren?

Rey inhaled and released her words in a rush of breath. “That was my first kiss.”

“Oh,” he said. Ben continued to study her, eyes roving her every feature. Then, his lips lifted and he smiled. Rey could even see his teeth. 

What?

*

**The Supremacy**

The explosion from the splintering of the lightsaber had sent them both reeling to opposite sides of Snoke’s throne room. The power of the blast knocked them unconscious.

Cold air flew in from the broken walls, small flames flickered everywhere in the burning rubble, and broken wires snapped and fizzled. The air smelled dangerous: burnt metal, charred flesh and smoke. 

Kylo Ren came back to himself after a few seconds. He pushed up onto his knees and pressed a black gloved palm to the once pristine, shining black floor, flicking away a few glowing embers. He looked around at the desolation. 

He had done this. At first the thought gave him a deep sense of satisfaction, despite knowing that there would be a reckoning.

He coughed to clear the smoke that burned his throat and a terrifying thought gripped his heart.

Rey.

Where was she? Was she alright?

It mattered not that moments ago they had been battling each other for that lightsaber.

He had made a decision.

He had killed his master. He had done it to save her.

He had changed the course of his future, possibly the future of the galaxy.

Since he had first dreamt of her, that young child playing with space junk, some part of him had known. The girl, now this woman, she would be his destruction, or his salvation.

He couldn’t regret the decision to end Lord Snoke. Destroying Rey was unfathomable. If he knew one thing to be absolutely true, it was that Rey must survive.

He pushed away her painful rejection, her illogical choice to rejoin the Resistance. She was still holding on to the old ways. Couldn’t she see it? All he desired was the possibility of a shared destiny with her.

Damn her.

He was wounded, but he ignored it, his injuries were minor. He scanned the room until he spotted her, pale and unmoving, some distance away from him. She was lying awkwardly on her back, one leg bent at an odd angle. He didn’t think it was broken. Within moments he was kneeling beside her.

“Rey,” he said. His throat burned and his eyes stung from the smoke. He touched her cheek, still damp with sweat but warm. He sagged with relief.

Her eyes remained closed but she moaned softly. He checked over her body for major injury. Her shoulder was bleeding and there was swelling above her left eyebrow. He moved each of her limbs and she continued to make mild noises of discomfort, but that was all. She stubbornly refused to wake up.

There wasn’t much time.

He knew that Snoke kept an escape pod just behind his throne. He lifted Rey into his arms and released a breath of shock. Not from her weight, which was insubstantial, but from the feeling of holding her close against his body. He remembered it from that time he had carried her out of the forest. This feeling was even stronger. Because of their Force bond?

He moved quickly, shifting her weight in his arms, holding her as close to his body as possible.

He placed her gently in the escape pod and keyed in the activation code and coordinates to get her off the Supremacy and away to safety.

Stormtroopers would arrive any moment now. He didn’t have time.

He might never get another chance. 

Was she his sworn enemy now? With Snoke dead, would their Force bond be extinguished?

He wasn’t sure whether she longed for this like he did. Their connection wasn’t just about the strength of the Force that flowed through them, and the battle between the light and the dark.

He ached for her. It was emotional and physical. It robbed him of breath. Since their Force bond, since he had shared some of his truth, when she stared at him she saw the depths of his soul. She didn’t seem scared or disgusted. And before this battle she’d told him that he wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t a very dark lord thing to do, but he’d played that over and over in his mind a thousand times.

Her eyes were closed, lashes long and curled. He noticed her pale freckles and paler skin. Her lips were parted. Her body hummed with light and it drew him, more powerful than anything Snoke had shown him from the darkness.

Ben swooped and kissed her, lingering, inhaling the scent of her skin. Her mouth was full and soft, but unfortunately still unresponsive. He wanted more. He wanted another day, another chance to do this with her, hopefully sentient and willing. “Choose me,” he whispered over her lips.

He stored the memory, something that could be good and his, whatever the future held.

Time was running out. 

If he didn’t let her go now, there would be no point to his hastily developing plan. He closed the door to the pod, and sent her away from him, hurtling through space.

Thirty seconds later, flanked by guards, Hux entered the chaos of what had once been the throne room. Incredulous and horrified, he scanned the devastation, observing Kylo Ren, prostate on the black marble, just waking up from the explosion.

*

Back in Rey’s sleep pod, the Force bond was continuing to allow Ben to hold her after their kiss. He still had an uncharacteristic, dreamy smile on his face, as though his mind was elsewhere.

Rey too was a little dazed from the passion of their kiss, but she came back to herself enough to recall her earlier ire, the callous betrayal he had demonstrated before the First Order, celebrating the death of the mother he had supposedly mourned in this very room.

His fingers were stroking the side of her face, which was making it difficult to maintain her anger.

Ben’s voice was low and emphatic. He said, “Search your feelings. Use the Force to replay Hux’s address to his troops. Tell me what you see.”

She should have been pushing him away, closing the bond forever, staying true to the Resistance.

Clearly his kiss had rendered her feeble-minded. Obediently, Rey closed her eyes and reached out with her feelings and her mind. 

Mouth pressed into a hard line, she replayed that horrendous scene. There was Ben, assuming the mantle of Kylo Ren, standing next to Hux, rejoicing in the end of General Organa. The fury she felt the first time she had seen this rose again with her bile. Her body stiffened and she attempted to jerk away. Ben held firm, not letting her budge from his arms.

Rey huffed. She looked more closely, trying to figure out what he wanted her to notice. Then, she saw it. 

Impossible. Her breath caught in her throat with her gasp. Her eyes opened.

“What?” he said. He was scanning her face.

Rey’s eyes widened as she tried to make sense of what she had just seen. 

“It wasn’t you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's prompt 'survival' allowed me to both move my story forward and spend some time describing how I imagine things went down on the Supremacy, after the battle.
> 
> Thanks to the #ReyloWeeklyChallenge from the [Two Halves of Reylo Tumblr community](https://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/), and thanks to my friend, [Rinabina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinabina/pseuds/rinabina), for giving me _all_ the advice and reacting so beautifully when Ben is vulnerable and needy.
> 
> May the 4th, my dudes.
> 
> Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear what you think.


	6. Droids

Ben thought to himself, Rey’s next question was sure to be _why_.

Why was he allowing some oversized imposter to masquerade as the dark lord, Kylo Ren, wearing his mask, parading as Supreme Leader before thousands of members of the First Order? Why did he appear to be celebrating the death of his mother, when he clearly had mourned her loss in front of Rey?

Why indeed?

Fortunately for Ben, the Force connection petered out before she could ask.

Without realising it, he had removed one of his gloves and was touching his fingertips to his lips, chasing their Force kiss, the sensation of their mouths together, and remembering the feel of her breath, the taste of her.

He needed to consider exactly how he should answer that question.

*

Several months earlier, after the battle on Crait, the _Finalizer_ had docked on the damaged remains of the _Supremacy_. Verbal exchanges between Ben and Hux were short, sharp and to the point. Their personal animosity toward each other was just being held in check. Hux was grudgingly accepting Ben as his new Supreme Leader, and Ben was allowing Hux to live. 

For now.

The Rebel Star Cruiser, _Raddus,_ had obliterated three _Resurgent-_ class Star Destroyers on the _Supremacy._ Some lunatic manning the _Raddus_ had jumped to light speed right through the Mega-class Star Dreadnaught, soaring off the right wing. Five of the original eight Star Destroyers, including the _Finalizer_ remained untouched. The _Supremacy_ might never fully recover its previous capabilities, but there was still nothing to rival it in the entire galaxy.

Hux was stewing with simmering rage over his lost Star Destroyers. As he listened to reports from his officers, detailing the extent of the damage, his eyes bulged so much that Ben thought he might cry blood.

 _Ben_.

Once Rey had begun addressing him as such, it was incredible how the name had resurrected itself in his mind. For a long time, his birth name and all it represented had given him only a deep sense of shame, something to be rid of. Now, it had become his identity again, at least in his private thoughts, and his private interactions with Rey. He wanted to be that man, the Ben Solo she thought he was.

Kylo Ren was the man behind the mask. Kylo Ren had been Snoke’s puppet. Kylo Ren was for show.

Once the _Finalizer_ had docked, Hux and Ben stalked away from each other without a word, Hux to rail and puff away at his minions, Ben to supervise the repairs on his command shuttle.

Ben was eager to be gone. Spending so much time in the company of General Armitage Hux was tedious. He had to find where in the galaxy Rey was hiding, and convince her to join with him. Once they were together, really together, they’d deal with Hux and work out a new way forward. 

No more of the limitations this Force bond imposed. They would be together, in the flesh. She’d probably want to touch him again, this time without wanting to kill him. Ben felt likewise. Those moments together on the _Supremacy_ had been palpable, powerful. He wanted her. He felt her longing. Ben wondered if she thought about what it would be like to kiss as much as he did.

He couldn’t think beyond those twin goals. Find Rey and be with her. With touching.

It was best to let Hux carry on, torturing or wiping out individuals and entire populations, those who refused to bend to the iron will of the First Order. Hux, like many spiteful and weak individuals, was never happier than when he was wielding his supposed power over another.

The insipid, milky redhead had no personal or true power. He was a snivelling slime, a cretinous coward. The one thing keeping him alive was the command he had over his armies. 

For now. 

The allegiance of armies could be turned with the right level of persuasion.

Ben had reclaimed his mask. It was something of a _fuck you_ to Snoke. He wondered how it felt to be sliced in two by a child in a mask? He’d donned the mask on the journey back to the _Supremacy_ , pointedly ignoring the raising of Hux’s feathery ginger eyebrows in response to it. The mask helped with the charade. It helped him to hide. It also hid when he rolled his eyes at every half-witted, grasping thing Hux said or did.

He was pacing along the bridge of his command shuttle, watching over a number of maintenance droids that were whirring furiously, repairing the damage sustained during the battle on Crait.

Two stormtrooper captains stood guard on the open ramp of the shuttle. One pressed the comlink on his helmet. “Yessir,” he said, nodding in acknowledgement. “Right away, sir.” The stormtrooper turned and marched up the ramp to Ben.

“Supreme Leader, General Hux requests your presence at your earliest convenience.”

Ben dismissed the captain with a flick of his black-gloved hand. “If the general needs me, he comes to me.”

“Supreme Leader,” the captain began again, and swallowed. His hand betrayed him, reaching to touch the base of his throat. “General Hux is meeting with his colonels in the command observatory. There is an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”

This was a tense moment for the captain while Ben stared at him, deciding his next move. One of the droids let out a squeal when a panel it was working on shorted out. A shower of sparks flew and the air filled with the smell of burnt wires.

Ben’s head whipped around. “Watch it,” he said. His voice was deadly soft and the droid let out an apologetic sound, rotating with care to resume its work.

Kylo Ren’s temper tantrums were well known and feared, his intense and unpredictable stares perhaps even more so.

Ben turned back to the captain who was holding himself very still. “Very well,” said Ben at last through his mask. He stormed from the loading dock, a looming and imposing figure with a swirling black cape, shining boots clicking sharply on the obsidian floor.

He should have seen it coming. 

Ben’s head was too full of Rey. The agonised look on her face at their final parting. She was conflicted. She didn’t want to turn her back on him, he was certain, but she thought there was no way forward for them. _Prepare to have that thought challenged, Rey._ He would be on his way soon, the Force would lead him to her, right after he dealt with whatever tiresome decision Hux needed made.

The command observatory was located toward the centre of the _Supremacy._ It was a circular room with eight split screens that showed all activity on each of the loading docks for the five remaining Star Destroyers. A shining stone table of pearly grey was fixed in the middle of the room with about thirty padded black chairs surrounding it.

Hux was holding court with a group of his colonels who were seated at the table, their eyes flicking back and forth from their general to a hologram of the damage sustained to one of the Star Destroyers. The curved walls of the observatory were lined with stormtroopers, unmoving, brainless white statues, their pose regimentally straight, and they were holding blasters that were pointed to the floor.

 _Compensating much, Armi?_ Thought Ben.

When Ben entered the room, Hux and each of the colonels stood, and then pressed a single knee to the floor, bowing deeply.

“Supreme Leader,” simpered Hux, along with the colonels.

“As you were,” said Ben. He waved his hand and the colonels resumed their seats. “Well?” he said, facing Hux.

“Ah, yes.” Hux smiled. It looked painful. “Supreme Leader, we thought a presentation to the troops, a respectful homage to Lord Snoke as it were, was in order. And an address from…”

“You do it.” Ben had no time for posturing. “This was what was so urgent?”

“No,” said Hux. “This was.”

In the split second that Ben saw the shining red of a Praetorian guard helmet projecting a moving image of Kylo Ren sending the lightsaber to slice through Lord Snoke, the stormtroopers, their blasters set to stun, sent Ben to oblivion.

When he came too, it was with a pounding headache and a sour taste in his mouth. He was lying on a thin mattress on top of a black stone cot that protruded from a shining black wall. He swung his feet around to sit up and his head swam. He looked down. There was a white bandage on the back of his left hand. He removed it and saw needle marks.

He’d been sedated.

He stood up, his hand rubbing some soreness from the back of his neck. The mattress disappeared into the wall, leaving a smooth surface, and no line or trace that it had ever been there.

Ben looked around at his surroundings. He was standing in a large, shining black cell. He could see his reflection in the walls, the floor and the ceiling. Every surface was the same. He removed his mask. His hair was matted and his face deathly pale. He’d looked better.

There was no way of telling how much time had passed or where he was. He could be on the _Supremacy_ or he could be in another star system, light years away.

He reached out with the Force.

Nothing.

The walls were thick, impenetrable.

The anger built within him, needing expression. He stared at the mask in his hands and his fingers tightened. He reached inside and pulled out the wires. It wasn’t enough. He threw it on the ground, stomped on it, and kicked it away, striking the wall opposite. The mask broke in two, like the cracking of an egg. The floor and the wall continued to gleam, neither showed even a scratch. 

Ben screamed, an agonised, animal-like noise, and commanded. “Let me out!”

A square of the wall depressed and into it appeared a small, service droid. “Welcome, Supreme Leader.” The top of the droid held utensils and a segregated dish filled with green and orange mush. There was steam rising off it and it smelled fragrant. Ben realised he was starving. He had no sense of how long it had been since he had last eaten.

Normally Ben didn’t lower himself to address droids. “Where is your master? I demand to be released.”

The droid released a series of beeps. “You must be hungry,” it said. “Please, you are welcome to eat.”

He knew it immediately for what it was. Only Snoke could have designed a cell like this, a cell to hold a powerful dark knight, a cell serviced by droids, immune to the powers of the Force. Snoke had planned for every contingency, even one to imprison his apprentice, Kylo Ren, should he decide to turn rogue. 

Well, almost every contingency, Ben thought, remembering his master lying on the floor in two pieces.

Except Snoke wasn’t the one holding Kylo Ren in this cell. Hux had been the one to orchestrate his capture. It stung a bit that Ben had been taken by surprise, but the _general_ had no idea that Kylo Ren _was_ Ben Solo, son of one of the most famous smugglers in the galaxy, a man with some renown for swindling, swaggering or blasting himself out of sticky situations. Ben smiled at the thought of his dad, and then pain lanced, bright and sharp. He pushed it away, locked it in a box, unable and unwilling to deal with the overwhelming guilt.

Hux had already demonstrated what a moron he was by sending Ben’s first meal on the head of a service droid.

It gave Ben a great sense of satisfaction to smash something. The droid was nothing but a few bolts and fizzing wires when he’d finished, and the walls of the cell were painted in streaks of orange and green.

“Tell Hux I’m waiting to speak to him, unless he is too much of a coward.”

The surrounding silence was profound. Ben’s laboured breathing was the only company to be had.

In the coming days, an unpredictable routine developed.

A narrow bed extended from the wall at regular intervals. Ben had no idea if he was sleeping during the day or at night. Meals appeared on pieces of black stone that slid out from imperceptible joins in the walls. Every few days, a fresher would appear in a cavity of the cell and disappear after a short period of time. 

When he shouted into the void that he needed to relieve himself, a robotic voice drifted from above, although there were no noticeable speakers or vents. “A stall will appear in twenty seconds, Supreme Leader.”

The location on the walls for meals, the bed, a fresher or a stall seemed to move around, the locations were impossible to predict, and therefore it was challenging for Ben to plan any sort of disruption or escape.

There was no human interaction and Ben’s life became controlled by droids. They always referred to him as _Supreme Leader._ Ben assumed that was Hux demonstrating his sick sense of humour. 

Ben was a monk. He was used to living a life of solitude and few possessions, but this was a stretch, even for him. He spent his time meditating or exercising, using his body weight. He would strip to his pants and plank for stretches of time, walk on his hands, balance on one foot, perform a series of manoeuvres, imagining he was holding a lightsaber.

He spent a lot of time imaging how he would kill Hux. It would be slow and painful and very rewarding.

Most of the time he thought about Rey. He sat on the cold, hard stone and remembered the times they had spent together. He remembered the first time she had pushed back when he tried to enter her mind. He remembered the first time they had touched through their Force bond. He remembered their perfect synchronicity in their fight against the Praetorian Guard.

He remembered when she denied him.

It was of no consequence. It was only a matter of time until they were joined forever. It was their destiny.

Time was difficult to measure. It gave Ben a lot of opportunity to think. He was reasonably certain that he was being held somewhere in the bowels of the _Supremacy_. Moving him to a different location left too many variables for Hux to control remotely. 

By Ben’s calculation he’d been aware of being in his cell for a couple of weeks when Hux’s disembodied voice filled the cell with sound. His voice had been altered so that it sounded more droid than human, a safety measure to ensure that Ben wasn’t able to use the Force to locate him.

“ _Ren_ ,” was all he said.

“When I kill you,” said Ben, “you will know it is happening. There will be pain. It will go on a long time.”

“Perhaps I’ll do the same when I find your girlfriend.”

“She is more powerful with the Force than you could ever understand. You will never defeat her.”

“Unless I blow her and her rebel base out of the galaxy.”

Ben concentrated on breathing slowly, in and out of his nose. He said, “There is no way this will not end badly for you.”

Hux said, “When they are destroyed, I will proclaim your treason. There will be a public execution. I look forward to it.”

“That’s the difference between you and I. You crave the attention. I don’t care if I am the only one to see it,” he kept his voice soft and deliberate, “when I kill you.”

“Well see. Enjoy captivity, _Supreme Leader_.”

There was a short crackle, then silence. Ben’s breathing had grown loud. He clenched his hands into fists and felt the power of the Force pulse around him, inside his cell, with nowhere to go.

At least two more weeks passed.

Ben could only sustain his anger for so long before he descended into a deep state of depression. There had been no Force bond with Rey since the day she denied him on Crait, shutting the door of the Falcon in his face.

For the first time since he had chosen to follow Lord Snoke to the dark side of the Force, Ben began to question his destiny. Had he been right about everything, about her? He’d been so certain. Was she lost to him forever? He thought he might be going mad.

He sat on the floor of his cell, feeling utterly hopeless.

The pressure began in his head, then a thrumming and a pop. Ben blinked in shock.

Rey was there. She too, was sitting on the ground, drinking deeply from a bottle of water. She looked sweat stained and dusty. His heart soared at the sight of her, in shock, in gratitude, and with something else he couldn’t name. “You’re here,” he said, almost leaping to his feet. He winced at the raw longing in his voice.

But what could she do for him where he was? He was of no use to her either. Plus, she’d denied him.

Embarrassed by his helpless state, Ben’s anger flared and his heart hardened. “Go away.”

They snapped at each other a bit and then Rey, her voice full of strength and tenderness, said, “I’m here.”

Ben stilled and closed his eyes. He felt those words settle and wrap around, snake inside his soul and across his skin. He knew, more than anything that this was the most important thing. He could be held captive for the rest of his days, so long as he knew she was there, with him. He was flooded with a rush of pleasure and warmth so profound that the tension that he’d been holding tight within his body, seemingly for weeks, relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we are back to Reylo's first encounter after Crait, at the end of chapter 2. Thanks so much to everyone who is reading.
> 
> This week's prompt for the #ReyloWeeklyChallenge from the [Two Halves of Reylo Tumblr community](https://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/), is 'droids' and while this chapter isn't specifically 'about' droids, they perform a powerful function within the chapter.
> 
> My friend, [Rinabina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinabina/pseuds/rinabina), was too busy with RL work to write her own chapter this week, but she still found the time to pre read mine and fix my awkward sentences. I love her.


	7. Solo

From Ben’s perspective, it made complete sense for Armitage Hux to be parading a facsimile of Kylo Ren before his minions.

Hux was, in his very essence and soul, a coward.

It was too much for the First Order to simultaneously lose Lord Snoke _and_ Kylo Ren, and all the Force power they represented, in one catastrophic incident. The reality of what had happened fuelled Hux’s fear. He was almost irrationally fearful of potential usurpers who might threaten his leadership. 

Ben knew why. Hux had no personal power. 

None. Zip. Zero.

On several occasions during Ben’s incarceration, Hux’s computer altered voice filled the cell, delivered through some sort of concealed speaker system. Hux’s main intention seemed to be to gloat. 

“It must be hard, _Ren_ ,” he would say, an insipid lilt to his voice. “To be alone, powerless, at my total mercy. Pity.”

Typical of a spiteful prig like Hux, thought Ben. Brave behind a wall or an army.

Ben demonstrated a high degree of self-control and maturity not to react, verbally or physically to the jibes. It didn’t come naturally.

_Powder-faced, ginger-haired milksop._

Ben was biding his time. He would get an opportunity for vengeance. The Force would make it so.

Several days had passed since he’d last seen Rey, and he was itchy for her presence. Needy. He breathed easier when she was connected to him. 

His thoughts strayed frequently, lingering and holding onto the moments of their Force kiss, and the feel of her smaller body, lithe and strong, against his, the way it had both comforted him and made him eager.

Her last connection had been all too brief and they hadn’t really talked. They’d bickered, reconciled, and the moment the tension between them eased, she had disappeared. 

It had bought him some more time, but he missed her.

Ben still didn’t know how much of the truth he was going to give to Rey. He needed to rectify this predicament on his own.

Then he would find her.

But for all his determination to keep his connection with the dark side, to draw power from it, the darkness was diminishing.

Hours, days and weeks stretched behind him now. Too much time with his own thoughts, internal noise that prevented him from meditating, prevented him from focusing solely on the task at hand: escape and retribution.

Ben’s despicable past actions crept unbidden into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to suppress them, those memories curled, hot and uncomfortable in his gut: the destruction of the Jedi temple, the massacre on Jakku, and most of all, his father’s murder. Guilt festered alongside the memories, twisty and sharp.

Conversely, the light that surrounded Rey was blinding and seductive. She glowed with an intensity he’d never experienced before, not even from Luke.

He was in conflict, teetering and unbalanced. He could not see a way forward, to either side. He belonged nowhere. The feeling of not belonging was familiar. It reminded him of his childhood.

Training and exercise was a tool to shut out the opposing voices in his head. In physical exhaustion he found brief moments of peace.

It was in such a moment, breath heaving, his dark hair in tendrils and sweat dripping from his nose and chin, that Ben sensed another presence. He raised his forehead and noticed the damp smudge his skin left behind on the smooth, shiny black surface of the cell wall.

He spun around and released a single word on a soft, disbelieving exhale. “Fuck.”

It was Luke. 

Ben’s first thought was _Jedi Master_ , his second, _uncle_ , and a third that crowded his head was, _betrayal_. The older man was clothed in light coloured monk garb, his face serene. He was surrounded by a pale blue halo and his eyes glittered as he studied Ben. 

After a long assessing look, Luke said, “If I’d known locking you up would make you train regularly, I might have done things differently.”

Ben returned the look, narrowing his eyes, and breathing in and out through his nose. It was a restrained action from a man not known for it.

Luke said, “Too soon?”

Bile rose, bitter in Ben’s throat. “Go away, old man. You’re dead.”

“True, but still connected.”

“You fooled me. You won that battle. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I haven’t come to revel. I meant it when I said I was sorry for failing you. You are my blood, every bit as much as you were my student.”

Ben lifted one brow.

Luke said, “I come with a gift.”

“Unless it’s the code to get me out of here, I have no use for gifts.”

The old Jedi ignored the rebuke, and stopped speaking, growing very still. His eyes became distant before he closed them, bowing his head. The robotic right hand was no more. In its place, a hand made from flesh flexed once and the five fingers fisted around a knobbly staff. He was meditating, summoning…something. The power of the Force swirled and pulsed in the black cell. Ben’s skin pebbled and his senses became hyper alert, he was almost afraid.

Luke lifted his head and opened his eyes. “Hey, kid.”

That voice. 

It wasn’t Luke’s voice. 

Luke entire being had altered: the way he stood, the jut of his hip, the tilt of his chin and the way his mouth lifted on one side into a rakish grin.

It was impossible. Ben let that thought settle on him but he couldn’t shake the truth of what had happened.

“Dad?” Ben’s voice broke on the word.

“Hokey religions,” his father’s voice mumbled. Han Solo was speaking through Luke’s mouth. “I have no idea how the hell this is working, pardon the pun, but I can see you, Ben, clear as Wookie fur on a black chair.”

Ben swallowed a painful lump in his throat. When the words came out they sounded stilted and rough. “Why would you want to?”

Luke rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in a very Han Solo manner. “I’m not gonna lie, kid. Killing me was a shitty thing to do.” The figure began pacing, and Ben couldn’t help but marvel at how his uncle’s body was perfectly adopting the gait of his dad, despite its smaller size. 

This man, who on the outside looked like Luke Skywalker but somehow was absolutely Han Solo, turned on his heel to face his son and spread his hands. “Ben. We’ve struggled to understand each other our whole lives. It _never_ stopped me from loving you.” Han took a step closer and Ben fought the desire to take a step back. “Son, I believe, even in that moment, when you…killed me, you loved me.”

Ben made an involuntary and painful noise in the back of his throat.

But Han Solo was here before him for a reason, and it appeared he had more to say. 

“I understand why you did what you did. It was wrong. It’s gonna haunt you the rest of your days. You were trying to prove something to Snoke, to fully embrace the darkness. Your mother and I both know that.”

“I did it,” said Ben, baring his teeth. He was unable to react without some level of defiance to a father with whom he had shared many challenging altercations.

“You did it alright,” his father agreed, nodding without irony. Then his eyes flashed with his own triumph. “But instead of embracing the darkness, it left you more conflicted than ever. Luke feels it. The girl, Rey, she feels it too. She thinks you can turn.”

“I _can’t_.” Ben ground out the words in bitter frustration. He wiped the sweat that clung to his cheeks and chin and flicked it to the floor. “Too much has happened.”

Han said, “You can’t leave yourself on this precipice, being pulled both ways. You’ll go mad.”

Ben released a breath and looked away. His shoulders slumped. “You think I don’t know that? What do you want me to say, Dad? I’m sorry?” Ben’s face twisted. “Well I am, but I can’t undo it. I can’t take it back.”

“No, you can’t.” There was a long pause. “Look at me, Ben.”

When Ben’s eyes returned to the face of his uncle, he didn’t see the old man’s beard or long, flowing hair. Ben saw the face of his dad. He was clean shaven with those deep lines that ran from his nose to his mouth, the scar across his chin, and eyes that changed colour with the light, sometimes blue, other times hazel. He looked greyer than Ben remembered from before he had left home. In fact, Han Solo looked exactly as he had on that awful day, the day of his death on Starkiller Base. 

Han’s eyes were full of Ben and his voice was gruff with emotion. He spoke slowly through clenched teeth. “I wanted to live. I wanted to take you home to your mother.” They stared at each other. 

Ben didn’t realise that he was committing all of his father’s features to memory, every line and bump. 

“I want you to know…if my death was the reason for your conflict, for you to be drawn back to the light, well, I consider that a life well lived.”

Heat surged through Ben, a white, hot light. He didn’t deserve it, he knew, but he couldn’t fight it. He didn’t want to anymore.

The blue haze surrounding Han was beginning to waver and the image was diminishing, favouring Luke’s likeness once more. A powerful longing ached inside Ben. He reached out, trying to keep his father in the cell with him, using every bit of Force power he had.

Ben croaked, “Dad.”

The figure continued to fade, the black wall behind the figure becoming more prominent.

The voice was growing softer. “Tell Rey everything. She’ll work it out anyway. She can save you in a way your mother and I couldn’t. She’s smart as a whip and a…” Ben could feel his dad grappling for something profound to say before his time was up. “A _really_ great pilot.”

Ben almost smiled. It was such a Dad thing to say. Something shifted inside his chest.

The figure had almost become imperceptible. Ben was struck with the finality of this moment. His uncle _had_ given him a gift, something precious, a gift he hadn’t realised that he had needed very badly. It left him wanting so much more, and realising it wasn’t going to be.

“Don’t forget, kid,” the voice was more discernible than the image now. It still held the essence of his father’s unmistakable roguishness, something that had charmed his mother as much as it had infuriated her. “You’re a catch. You are and always will be, a Solo, every bit as much as you are a Skywalker.”

Ben looked around. His sweat had left a series of drips on the shining black floor. He could smell himself and he longed for the fresher to appear. Stars knew when it would.

He clung to the presence of his father. The forgiveness implied, while not absolute, was so much more than Ben deserved. A small piece of his heart that had been jagged and raw, filled with bitterness and resentment, now sealed over, smooth and healed, and filled with light.

Ben’s natural tendency was to be drawn to darkness, to the power it enticed. He would need to fight against it always. Somehow he knew, as a direct result of this visit beyond death, that reaching for the light the next time he tried, it would be a little easier.

Of course, Ben’s connection with Rey was another factor, a powerful one. 

Everything that Ben Solo had believed for _years_ to be his destiny, his true path, was being shaken and challenged. Could he allow himself to consider a different future? How much was this longing for power and control truly his desire, and how much had been planted in him by Snoke?

The presence of the Force had dissipated, and the dry air inside the cell chilled the sweat on his skin. Ben was desperately, utterly alone, but he knew what he had to do.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's prompt for the #ReyloWeeklyChallenge from the [Two Halves of Reylo Tumblr community](https://two-halves-of-reylo.tumblr.com/), was 'Solo'.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to [Rinabina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinabina/pseuds/rinabina), for pre reading, corrections and encouragement.
> 
> Cheers to anyone still reading along.


	8. Truth

Following the battle on Crait, the remaining rebels had been consumed with listlessness and uncertainty. That was now a thing of the past.

These days Storia was humming with action. Since Leia’s passing, and the video stream of Hux with Kylo Ren, the new Supreme Leader, allies were flooding in from secret locations all over the galaxy. Volunteers, pledging allegiance to the Resistance, arrived daily, and the rebel fleet had expanded to a level that felt like they could pose a real challenge to the First Order. 

An enormous container ship had arrived the day before, rumoured to hold something stunning, something to inject even more hope into the rebel movement. It was large and ominous, cloaked, and held in the very depths of the hull. 

It was late afternoon when an exhausted Rey emerged from the Falcon, only to find the Resistance hanger buzzing with anticipation and an unexpected gathering, all with their eyes on…her.

Sometime during the day, the cloaked bulk had been transported to a prominent position, nestled in the centre of the Resistance fleet.

Rey didn’t know the captain’s name. He was young, perhaps her age, reedy and tall with soft brown curling hair. His appearance belied a voice that boomed, “Soldiers…commence!”

In what appeared to be a rehearsed and synchronised manoeuvre, about twenty rebel soldiers took hold of ropes attached to the cover. It slithered to the stone floor, revealing what lay beneath. Rey noticed that General Dameron was standing in the centre of the action. Engineers paused their operations on starfighters, more ground crew gathered and loud gasps were heard throughout the cave.

“It’s yours,” said Poe, bending at the waist and sweeping his arm wide.

“What?”

“Well, yours and Chewie.” He cocked his hip to one side and his chest swelled a little _._ “To command.”

Rey, unaware that a smudge of black ran in a streak alongside her nose, used a piece of grey cloth to wipe the grease from her hands. The skin around her knuckles was dry and cracked; she would need to ask the medic for a salve. She also needed to buy herself some time.

It had been a hard day. The Falcon was a never-ending chore. Several hours of hard labour to repair a malfunctioning deflector generator, and for an added bonus, a gas leak in the cargo bay. Beyond simple mechanics, various panels on the ship were falling apart. Storage compartments, originally used for smuggling, fell off their hinges without warning, the foam in the lounges in the main hold was perishing, Chewie had a visible and fur-free scar on his thigh from a rusty spring that had poked through and drawn a substantial amount of gushing blood. It had become pretty standard for bits of the ship’s outer panels to be lost on scouting missions, disappearing deep into the inky depths of the galaxy. In fact, the exterior of the Falcon was so patchy it resembled an aerial view of an agriworld.

And here was a brand new freighter, looming sleek and modern behind Poe and the rebel gathering. The ship was a deep grey, but its pristine, gleaming panels winked in the afternoon shaft of sunlight that beamed through the entrance of the cave.

It was obvious that the ship had been modelled, some might say blatantly _copied_ , on the Falcon’s outward appearance, of that there was no doubt. Two convex saucers welded together, a pair of front-facing mandibles and an outrigger-style, side-mounted cockpit.

Poe was wearing a proud, shit-eating grin. “The interior is all the latest tech; cloaking systems, weapons that will blow your mind, the most powerful hyperdrive, you name it.” He continued, barely restraining his excitement. “Wait till we start her up, you can’t even _hear_ her purr. And she’s _untraceable._ You won’t find anything to rival her. _”_

Rey chanced a glance at Chewie who had been uncharacteristically silent during this exchange. He tilted his head down to meet her eye and she knew they were on the same page.

There was no denying the dashing impression General Dameron made at this moment. Heads turned in his direction, the rebels were drawn to every word he uttered, every action. Finn and Lieutenant Connix, along with a growing number of young crew, male and female, moved their heads from watching Poe to the ship and back again, transfixed. Rey reflected on how grateful she was that Poe had stepped into the cavernous leadership hole left by General Organa. He was a natural.

Poe continued, unabated, “The Aeon Hawke.” He tapped the shining silver-white letters etched on the hull, and rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Turning to the crowd, Poe raised his voice. “Thanks to Rey, Luke Skywalker came back to us a final time, humiliated Kylo Ren, and reminded us what is at stake and how much we must be prepared to sacrifice.” He paced in a semi-circle, allowing all those gathered to see and hear him. “Luke Skywalker, General Organa, Han Solo: these are our legends from another time, they continue to and will _always_ inspire us.” He turned back to face Rey, turning an upturned palm in her direction. “And here we have the face of our modern day movement, our hero. Without Rey there would be no Resistance to fight on.”

“I only lifted a few r-” Rey began. Chewie stepped on her boot, silencing her. Poe didn’t seem to have heard; he was caught up, clearly having a moment.

“Together with our other heroes, Finn and Rose Tico, and everyone here who has pledged to our cause, we will win this fight for justice throughout the galaxy.” Poe met Rey’s eyes again, and his expectant smile widened. “Well?”

For a brief moment, Rey heard Ben’s words repeat in her head, _let the past die, kill it if you have to_. He hadn’t meant this moment, but she could only imagine what his reaction would be; he hated his father’s old ship. Was it time to start again, beginning here with this symbolic gesture? So far she had gone along with everything that the Resistance had asked of her because it seemed like the right thing to do.

Now?

“It’s a beautiful ship, General,” said Rey in a measured tone. Fur brushed along her side, along with the wolfish smell of Wookie. At the same time, she noticed Finn take a step closer to Poe and curl his fingers around the general’s forearm, even though the general didn’t seem to notice. 

Of course Finn would know and understand her reaction.

She continued, “It is a great honour.” Rey hated speaking in front of a crowd; she was much better in a one-on-one situation. And it was only a short time ago that she lived alone, with no expectations or anyone to care what she did or said. Now she had friends. Now she had people who looked up to her and wanted to listen to her opinion. She was part of a movement. She had purpose. 

Most inexplicably of all, she had become a hero. 

Acknowledging that fact was hard, because most times Rey still felt young and untested, very much a lonely scavenger from Jakku.

The blush stained Rey’s neck and cheeks and her voice wavered only a little. She tried to make her voice carry. “It’s an exciting addition to our fleet, General. We’ll do great things with a ship like the _Aeon Hawke_.”

She cast her eyes to Finn, hoping she was right, that he would explain and defend her later.

She said, “But it’s for someone more worthy.” The silence in the room seemed to gobble her up. She cleared her throat. “Someone else. Thank you, but Chewie and I are best suited to the Falcon.”

Chewie leaned forward and made a wailing sound that, for those who didn’t speak Wookie, clearly communicated, do _not_ mess with us on this.

Poe’s mouth dropped open. He turned, stunned, to face Finn, as Rey and Chewie turned around and walked back up the ramp and into the Falcon, the door closing behind them. 

A random piece of the cockpit fell to the ground, its metallic sound echoing through the cave as the door locked in place.

*

The salve was soothing on her roughened skin as she worked it in, but the backs of her hands remained rough and careworn.

She was sitting, cross-legged on her cot when a shadow fell across her lap.

To one side, a large black glove fluttered to the hard ground with a soft sound.

His hands were so much larger than her own. Despite the calluses, these hands were a thing of beauty; mostly hairless, strong veins stood out on the backs, and his long blunt fingers curled around hers. Rey noticed his square nails were clean and trimmed. 

Ben took possession of Rey’s right hand, turned it over and cradled it. His thumb pressed deep, massaging her palm. The touch radiated her entire being and Rey closed her eyes. 

Almost. It was almost as though he was present in the room with her. It wasn’t quite a human touch, but it was close enough. For now. She craved it.

Over a week. More. Two at least.

The last time the Force bond had connected them had been an age. Rey had accused Ben of gloating about the death of his mother, and then realised what had been beamed to the Resistance on the video stream hadn’t been Kylo Ren at all.

Agony.

It had been agony to be separated from him all this time. She had so many questions. Worse, she missed him with a longing that physically hurt.

She had thrown herself into daily activity, hard physical work. She had tried not to think.

And he was here. At least he was here in this strange, connection that was theirs alone.

“I need to tell you,” said Ben.

“Who was that with Hux?”

“No, I need to tell you…everything. You sense so much, but I want to you to know, what has happened, who I am.” Ben inhaled a shaky breath. “Are you ready?”

Rey blinked up at him. Ben appeared gaunt and sleep deprived, and in this moment, very young. His hair hung about his face in matted waves, haloed by soft light because the span of his shoulders blocked the lamp across the room.

His face was in shadow but Rey could tell that his eyes were pleading. He let go of her hand to cup her cheek. “Rey?”

“Yes,” she whispered. On impulse she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. She watched as Ben’s eyes fluttered closed and the lines of tension between his brows relaxed. His lips were soft and full. She lingered, fighting the urge to deepen the kiss before she leaned back. “Tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long between chapter updates. Thank you if you are still reading along.


	9. Join

Earlier in the day, one notable person who wasn’t present for the unveiling of the Aeon Hawke was Rose.

She had made sure she was as far away from everyone and everything as possible. She didn’t want to worry anyone with her absence, but she needed space. She wandered off, down one of the labyrinth of tunnels that interconnected the Resistance barracks. Ventilation shafts appeared at regular intervals in this tunnel system but even so, the air felt heavy and smelled like wet earth.

Since sustaining injuries on Crait, Rose hadn’t done much to test her fitness. Nevertheless, she started running. Her muscles protested the sudden activity and her body twinged around healed injuries. She ignored it. Tears welled in her eyes as she ran, but the urgency to distance herself from others was greater than any discomfort she was feeling. The pounding from the soles of her scuffed workboots reverberated in the passageway. She ran until her lungs hurt and she had to pause and catch her breath. 

She bowed over, pressing a hand against the rough stone. In frustration, she pressed harder and harder, making a guttural sound at her impotence. When she righted herself, her fingers came away gritty and damp. Feeling silly, she brushed her fingers clean against the worn cloth of her tech uniform. The new uniforms, while still unflattering, were at least comfortable and the soft grey was an improvement on the stiff mustard brown suit she had worn on the Raddus.

Rose was angry. She was angry at her own foolishness. She was angry for making assumptions. She was angry at the tears that continued to trail down her sweaty cheeks.

So far her luck had held out and Rose hadn’t crossed paths with any other rebels. They were all too busy at the unveiling of that new ship, donated by a mysterious benefactor to the rebel movement. Poe Dameron had confided to Finn that it had been designed specifically to replace that broken down relic, the Millennium Falcon. Rose released a shaky breath and hiccupped through her tears. She wanted to stop thinking about them, about him, about all of it.

Rose had arrived at an unfamiliar T-intersection. She stretched her neck, scanning one way and then the other. Which would offer the most privacy? 

She chose, based on nothing but instinct. “Left,” She muttered, put her head down and began running again.

It was then that her luck finally ran out. Before she had covered more than half a dozen paces, she heard footsteps and looked up.

General Dameron, flanked by three captains and deep in conversation, approached from the opposite direction. The sound of her skidding halt on the stone floor caused them to freeze. One of the captains pulled out his blaster, but upon recognising a Resistance hero, ducked his head and re-holstered his weapon. 

The general frowned and raised his palm as though to halt any further action.

Rose couldn’t bear it. There was a break in the tunnel between her, Poe and his men. She disappeared from view, bolting down the new passageway, increasing her pace.

*

The sight of Rose in such obvious distress unnerved Poe entirely. He turned to the captain on his right. “Captain Skobra, for now, assume command of the Aeon Hawke. Take her for a spin and put her through her paces.”

Skobra’s mouth broke into a wide smile. She was shorter than the other two captains, stocky with jet-black hair wound into a tight braid around her head. From the moment she had helped unveil that new, incredible ship, her fingers had itched with longing to fly her. Her regular co-pilot, Ju Pooc, was going to lose his mind. This was an opportunity she wasn’t about to take for granted. Not for a second.

Skobra straightened her posture and saluted. “Yes, General.” She turned and departed with vigour, eager to assume her command.

Poe dismissed his other captains with brief orders. His brow creased with concern, he followed the path that Rose had taken and broke into a swift jog.

*

Hoping against hope that the sight of her would be too unimportant to distract anyone from his or her duties, Rose ran on, breathless with effort. Over the dual pounding of her heartbeats and footsteps, Rose heard his command, “Wait!”

He was their leader, what else could she do? 

Her heart sunk at the thought that the general might suspect that her decision to flee was the result of any type of wrongdoing. 

Poe reached her in no time at all, breaths even as they slowed to a walk. Rose was panting, both from exertion and emotion. Sweat ran in rivulets down her spine, her top lip beaded with it. She really needed to work on her strength and fitness.

Poe’s eyes were careful but his words were light. “What’s up, Rose?”

She struggled to maintain eye contact. “It’s nothing, General. It’s personal. If you don’t mind, I need a few minutes alone.” She hated the way her voice hitched.

“Look at me, please.” It wasn’t a command, and his tone was filled with kindness.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in and out, trying to centre herself. She peered up at him. She could tell from his expression that he didn’t buy her saying it was _nothing_. She could only imagine what a dishevelled mess she looked: pale, dirty, tear-stained face and red eyes. 

He said, “You’d better come with me.”

Resigned to her fate, Rose trudged beside Poe as he led her through a number of twists and turns, apparent shortcuts, until they came to a sleeping chamber. The door was etched with the insignia of resistance general.

It was Poe’s room. Rose blinked up at him in shocked surprise.

“For privacy. That’s all. No one will bother us here.” 

Rose stepped over the threshold. 

Poe breezed in after her and began chatting amiably, “On my home planet, Yavin 4, we make a tea from the Massassi blossom. It’s great for fever, but when I was a kid, my dad used to make it for me, whenever I was having a crappy day.” He turned to face her and smiled, jutting his chin as though to say, _go ahead, look around_.

As Poe busied himself in a small refreshment area, Rose scrubbed at her dirty face and snooped a little. The stone walls were whitewashed and the floor swept clean. It wasn’t much larger than anyone else’s sleeping pod, and fairly sparse, but she was surprised to see a small desk covered in official-looking documents, and an old photograph in a small frame. The photograph was of a serious-looking but quite beautiful, dark-eyed woman wearing the uniform of lieutenant from the Republic Alliance. There was a resemblance. His mother perhaps? Rose noticed a number of books, lined up neatly on a long shelf indented into the wall to one side of the desk. Moving closer she noticed a particular large and aged volume. There were words etched in silver along the spine, _Galactic Constitution_.

Poe handed Rose a mug. Comforting warmth spread over her fingers. She took a deep, grateful sip and began coughing immediately. “That’s not just tea!”

Poe’s grin was unapologetic. “I might’ve added a hit of something stronger.”

Rose hadn’t realised that she’d been shivering and the strong drink did indeed settle her shaking.

Poe led her to a pair of low chairs that faced each other. They sat, Rose prim and upright, avoiding eye contact, as much from not wanting to divulge anything as from avoiding his handsome face. He really was ridiculously good-looking. His large dark eyes reminded her of a Fathier, too all-seeing. She knew he was concerned and only trying to help, but she was unnerved by the intensity of his gaze.

Poe was feeling quite pleased with himself. He assumed that getting Rose to a quiet place and sitting her down would be the hard part. He leaned forward, expectant, waiting for her to tell him everything. So he could fix it. That was his job, surely.

After a few minutes, it became painfully obvious that no conversation was going to be naturally forthcoming. Rose continued to sip her tea, looking anywhere but at him. Poe was gratified to see that Rose’s tears had stopped flowing, but he was at a total loss for how to move things forward. He knew how to turn an X-Wing on the sharpest angle. He knew everything about leading a squadron into battle. He knew how to stare danger in the face. This was something else. Rose’s silence was making him uncomfortable

Poe looked around the room making clicking sounds with his mouth; he nodded to himself and nervously rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. The silence lengthened and the tension built. Someone needed to make the first move.

“So,” Poe slapped his hands on his thighs, startling Rose. “Fess up, kid.”

Rose didn’t want to be impolite, but seriously, she wasn’t going there. “Thanks, General, but really, don’t worry about it.”

Poe lifted his cheek in a disarming grin and spread his hands. “Rose, it’s just you and me here. You can call me Poe.”

Rose said nothing and stared at the contents of her mug. Poe sighed and scratched the stubble on his cheek.

“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t look after _all_ the needs of one of the most significant heroes of our new movement.” He shifted in his seat and leaned further forward, lowering his voice. “But we go back a ways, Rose. I think we’re friends.” 

Rose watched him, and gave the barest nod of acknowledgment. 

Poe took it as a sign that he was on the right track. He leaned back, grabbing one of his elbows and stretching it behind his head. “You know, when I had those four tie fighters bearing down on my tail, you were the only mechanic who worked out how to open those damn malfunctioning doors to the Raddus. I owe you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be space dust.”

Rose was self-deprecating. “It was only because the Raddus manual was in Calamarian and I was the only one who could read-”

“Ah-ah! You know it’s true.”

More silence.

Poe tried again, gently. “Come on, Rose.”

Nothing.

“Would you prefer it if I got Finn in here to talk to you?” At her wide-eyed look he raised his palms. “I don’t mean to offend you, but everyone sees how the two of you are stuck together like glue. Word around the hanger is that-”

Rose startled violently. “No!”

During the silence that followed that outburst, she knew that she’d given herself away. She released a long breath and muttered, “So embarrassing.” She raised her head and maintained steady eye contact. “It’s not like that. He’s not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Ah. You two have a fight?”

“He’s _never_ going to be my boyfriend.”

Poe said, “I’m sure if the two of you talk it over-”

“You don’t understand. He loves me.” Her next words were slow and loaded with hidden meaning. “I know he loves me. He’s my closest friend. But. He. Doesn’t. Love. Me. That. Way.”

Poe was studying her, a confused expression on his face.

Rose said, “He can’t.” This time Poe waited. There was a drawn-out, meaningful pause before Rose continued. “He likes boys, er, men.”

“Oh,” said Poe, clearly taken aback. “Really?”

Having begun to explain, Rose’s shoulders relaxed and the words started to flow, almost beyond her control, too fast, like a dam released. “I just assumed he felt the same as me. I knew we had a connection. I thought the logical conclusion was that we were in love. I mean, I know I love _him_. So this hurts. It hurts, bad. But I’ve dragged poor Finn into my delusion. I never realised how much of a sheltered life I lived on Hays Minor.” Rose took a deep sip of her tea and ploughed on. “Paige always teased me that I needed to get my head out of books and engage with more people, get involved in the real world. I didn’t even _know_ that boys could like boys or girls could like girls. I just thought boys and girls, or men and women fell in love and had families. I know I seem pretty naive to you. I assume, growing up, you always knew, unlike me.”

Poe had grown very quiet.

“Oh gosh. I’m an idiot. I meant in general. I didn’t mean to presume anything about _you.”_

Poe was chewing the inside of his cheek. “It’s not always that simple, Rose.”

“What do you mean?” Rose realised that she had become a lot less inhibited. 

It might have been the drink.

Poe’s entire demeanour had changed. He seemed distracted. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It was a logical mistake. I’m sure you and Finn can work things out.”

Rose exhaled. “Oh, I’ll be alright. We’ll be alright. Eventually. It was a shock.” 

She took another long sip of her tea. Her mind was swimming a little, but she remembered something he hadn’t answered. “What do you mean it’s not always that simple?”

For a moment it looked as though Poe was going to brush her off again. He appeared lost in thought, as though he was turning things over in his mind. But then, quite suddenly he shook his head and smiled. “Well, sometimes men like men and women like other women…and then you have people like me.”

“Huh?”

He shrugged. “I don’t even see men or women, human, alien. I can like anyone that way.”

Rose coughed again and liquid came out of her nose. Poe thumped her back helpfully.

Rose and Poe remained in his room and continued to talk, relaxed at last in each other’s company. Poe didn’t appear to be in any rush, and he outlined some of his plans for the rebel’s next steps. He made sure to be emphatic about how Rose was integral to those plans. 

It was a distraction tactic, and Rose’s insides warmed, as much from the drink as from this awkward kindness.

Conversation turned, as it often did with Poe, to General Organa. Rose had never gotten to know her, so she only had an impression of her as an icon and hero. Without diminishing Rose’s reverence for Leia, Poe tried to share some of Leia’s more human qualities. He talked about her ability to lead and cut through all the crap. He spoke about her deadpan humour, the way she limped from a battle injury she never acknowledged, her intolerance for negativity and the way she encouraged him, even when she was putting him in his place. He even included a tale about the time he achieved his captaincy in the Resistance Navy and Leia drank him under the table at his celebratory dinner.

Rose had only even seen Poe swagger around the resistance base, focused and confident. She realised he was letting her in, allowing her to witness a moment of vulnerability, and a rare glimpse of the weight of the burden of leadership.

Twenty minutes later, Rose really did feel much better. She might even have been a little drunk. The shock of finding out Finn’s true feelings had eased. The hurt was still there but, despite being naive, Rose had enough wisdom and common sense to know that time would heal. And Poe had given her some perspective. As a rebel movement, they had serious issues to deal with. She was young, and there would be time enough for romance.

Now they were walking together. Poe was making his way back to the command centre when a message came through on his lapel comlink.

“General, the man who donated the Aeon Hawke is still waiting for his audience with you.”

“Shit,” said Poe under his breath. “I forgot about that.” He pressed the button to answer the message. “Copy that. Give me two minutes.” He turned to face Rose. “You missed the unveiling. Want to come with me to meet this guy?”

“I should get back to my post.”

Poe bumped Rose with his arm. “Come on. Actually, I was going to have to find you later. This guy mentioned you and Finn as part of the reason for making the donation.”

“Me?”

Moments later they arrived at the command centre. It had recently been moved to a much more cavernous space and was a hive of activity and noise. There were banks of beeping computer terminals full of blinking lights. Officers moved between terminals, consulting each other while holding portable datapads. Some of the technical crew were maintaining secret contact with allies across the galaxy on a newly developed HoloNet. Others were communicating with naval fleet squadrons out on training manoeuvres or reconnaissance missions in the nearby region. Protocol droids deciphered intergalactic coded messages, astromech droids connected to computer banks to repair components. 

Toward the back of the room was a quieter corner with a round meeting table and a semi-circle of padded lounges along the wall side. Several officers were seated there, watching and laughing as a middle-aged man in civilian clothing stood before them. He seemed to be performing some kind of magic trick. The captains applauded.

C-3PO appeared out of nowhere, vibrating with officiousness. “General Dameron, may I introduce you to-”

Poe interrupted, “Sorry to have kept you-” 

The man turned around to face them.

Rose made an inhuman sound and reached for her blaster, distraught to find herself unarmed. She started for Poe’s belt, but he grabbed her in a defensive move, holding her arms down. “Whoa. What’s this about?”

Rose spat the words out between clenched teeth. “That’s the code breaker. That’s the monster who betrayed us on The Supremacy!”

Poe’s entire body tensed. “What?” The room exploded in chaos.

Rose was screaming, “Traitor!” Some people in the command centre look confused, or began to reach for weapons.

Before anyone else had made a decision, Poe dropped his hold on Rose, grabbed his blaster and pointed it at the man, who held up his hands, eyes wide and twitching.

“Y-Yeah, man,” said DJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to take us away from Kylo and Rey, but this chapter was important for the next part of the story. Thanks to Rinabina for some great suggestions to improve the tone of the chapter, and thanks to you for reading x


	10. Clarity

Rey hadn’t known about any of this because she was in her sleeping pod, hearing at last the truth about Ben Solo’s fate.

She didn’t know about Rose’s afternoon breakdown. 

Months ago Finn had told her the story of the code breaker’s betrayal on the Supremacy, but she didn’t really know who DJ was, hadn’t heard about him being the one who donated the Aeon Hawke, or his appearance and subsequent arrest at the command centre. 

She hadn’t known about any of it.

She sat on her cot, holding Ben’s hands while he spoke in a hushed voice, telling her everything. Her thumb traced his long index finger, and across the back of his broad hand. He held her as she held him, soft but firm, a sense of warmth through the Force bond. Rey’s eyes focused the back of Ben’s hands, on a small freckle, the strong veins that stood proud. By comparison Rey’s skin was rough, her knuckles peeling and angry red. Perhaps she should consider wearing gloves like Ben? There were callouses on his fingers and palms, but save for a single silvery scar, the backs of his hands were unblemished and smooth.

Above the caves, behind the mountains, and across the vast undulating sand, the twin burning suns of Storia didn’t set until after midnight each day. Apart from a few pools of light, air holes and skylights drilled through rock from high above, the cave barracks were shrouded in darkness, and artificial light was always in use. 

Rey’s sleep pod was lamp lit, the whitewashed walls glowed like honey melon, broken by shadow. 

Ben got to the part of the story where Hux had staged his capture, and how he had been imprisoned in a shining black cell for months. Rey’s stillness altered, a rigid tenseness telegraphed through her hands and arms, and Ben paused. From anyone else Ben would have expected laughter and derision for his failure at predicting Hux’s move, for being a blind, trusting fool. Instead Rey did something much worse.

She let go of his hands. 

It was so sudden; a complete disconnection that Ben thought would surely terminate their Force bond. Except it didn’t.

Rey stood and abruptly crossed the room to the opposite wall, facing away from him. Her hands curled into fists. Ben’s eyes followed her and watched the bones of her shoulders lift and fall with her breaths.

Growing up on Chandrila, when Ben’s dad was away on one of his schemes, his mother never knew when he would return. She would light a candle in a hurricane lamp and hang it outside on the porch, in case he flew home during the night. Ickths, finely furred moths as big as a child’s fist, were drawn to the light all night long. From the open window that ran alongside Ben’s bed, he heard the soft thud of their wings as they beat against the wall of the house. When the moths got too close, if they touched the warm bulb of the light with any part of their bodies, they died instantly and fell to the ground. 

For a moment Ben looked at his empty hands, and then glanced up. She stood with her back to him, a young woman wearing a simple tank and loose sleep pants. The image belied what she really was. Rey’s light was undeniable; it always had been, along with her power. His counterpoint. Would she also be his downfall? It certainly felt as though Kylo Ren was diminishing and becoming something quite separate from Ben Solo. 

Compelled, Ben crossed the room to stand behind Rey not quite close enough to touch.

He studied the fall of her fine brown hair. After wearing it in tight knots all day, she had let it down before sleep. It curled gently on her shoulders and shone in the glow of the lamp. He wondered if it would move if he touched it. It did. He drew it away, over her shoulder, exposing her long pale neck.

“All this time?” Rey said.

“Yes.”

“So you aren’t The Supreme Leader at all.” Rey turned to face him and her hair fell from his fingers.

Ben lowered his hand and put it behind his back. “Well, technically,”

“Ben.”

“I will be. When I get out. Probably.”

Rey’s forehead wrinkled. “Who is he?”

“The imposter in the mask? A stormtrooper, a clone. It doesn’t matter. Whoever it is, Hux is the puppet master.”

“ _When you get out_. You have a plan?”

The determined expression and utter faith in his ability was etched on her young face. His heart beat once, loudly against his chest. Ben squared his shoulders and said, “Hux is a fool. He likes to taunt me. He will make an error soon enough, and I will crush him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ben studied her wide set brown eyes, fierce in their outrage for him. His eyes fell to the bow of her lips. He forced his eyes up and hated the arrogant sneer that crept into his voice. “What could you have done?” This was his scorched pride, frustrated and impotent at his inability to fight free from his captivity. He was the dark lord. How dare this slip of a girl look at him with pity and concern.

Her mouth trembled, her expressive vulnerable mouth. She licked her lips. “I would have come for you.”

Ben closed his eyes to shut out the kindness and warmth of her admission, the impossibility of it, and the stirring of hope that he fought against. He couldn’t rely on anyone to be on his side, not even her.

Voice roughened, Ben said, “Rey.” He opened his eyes and was stunned to find her looking just the same; open, trusting, determined. He sighed. “We are enemies. We stand on opposite sides. News of my demise would send the resistance into ecstasy.”

Ben jutted his chin on the last word and noticed the heat rise to Rey’s cheeks. She said, “But they don’t know.” She reached out to touch the side of his face. Through the force bond the touch tingled across his skin like a brush fire. Ben welcomed it with a slow exhale. “You saved me,” she breathed. “ _You_ killed Snoke.”

“After all I’ve done. It wouldn’t make a difference.”

She frowned. Her face closed in on itself and she appeared to come to some decision. “We’ll see.” Her head whipped to the side.

“Yes,” she said to someone who wasn’t Ben. Someone in her doorway? “Of course. I’ll come at once.”

Ben’s stomach plummeted. He said, “Don’t go. Not yet.”

Rey blinked up at him. He saw the conflict in her eyes. “I don’t _want_ to leave you. If the general has summoned me, it must be urgent.”

Ben’s lip curled. “Dameron. The pilot?”

She kissed him then, before he saw it coming, swift and fierce. He felt the current of her on his lips, heating him up from the inside. Her breath fanned across his face. “Come back to me. Soon. I have an idea.” Then she turned away, pulling on a jacket and boots, twisting up her hair. As sad as Ben was to see this soft side of Rey being covered up, he was grateful that it wasn’t about to be shared with that showboat flyboy.

“Will you tell me what it’s about?”

Rey grinned at him, quick as a flash. “Maybe.”

Ben ran after her retreating figure, desperate to remain connected, but within moments the Force connection petered out and he was left, alone in his cell, staring at a never-ending sheet of black reflective glass.


End file.
